Hell! They don’t scare me, she reminded herself. I’ve taken a few of them down.
She pushed back up, picking up the “No Jack Authority!” chant being voiced by the crowd.
There was no stage this time, no set speakers. But someone out of Michi’s sight obviously had a bullhorn, and he was changing the chants every few minutes. Michi spent the next 30 minutes chanting herself hoarse, yelling with every fiber of her body. She shook Franz’ picture as she chanted, using it as an exclamation mark. Despite the chill, her energy and the close proximity of the crowd kept her warm.
She knew that the jacks’ crowd surveillance would have already identified her as a participant, and this was not what she should be doing if she wanted to go back home, but she didn’t care.
When the blast exploded, she felt the rush of heat go over her head. It didn’t register for a moment, but the screams that started up did. Ahead of her, a number of jacks were down hard while others struggled back to their feet. Within moments, some of them opened fire on the protesters. Michi saw a dozen or more protesters in the front ranks fall as they were hit.
People started to turn and run, a stampede to get away from the carnage. The human current took Michi with it. Not everyone ran, though. A figure in a ski mask and dressed in black stepped forward against the crowd, people parting alongside of him as he raised some sort of weapon and fired back in the direction of the jacks.
Michi was almost pushed into his line of fire, but she was able to squirm back and to his side. He pumped out three more shots, then pushed his way forward and out of sight.
Michi stumbled over a prone body. She bent down to help the man up and was almost knocked down herself. Another man stopped, and with both of them taking an arm, they picked the fallen man up and dragged him out of the way.
Shots continued to ring out, some close by, some from the jacks. Michi risked a glance back as she helped drag the man to one of the side streets. Twenty or thirty bodies littered the square, most looking like protesters. The man in black, the one who was firing, continued to advance, now that he was not blocked by the mass of people. He kept firing, but then he stumbled and went down.
Michi turned her attention to getting away and out of the line of fire. She lost sight of the square as she helped pull the man out and onto one of the side streets. People were rushing by when the man struggled to his feet, wheezing, but assuring them he was OK. The other man that was helping looked at Michi and snapped his head indicating that they should get out of there. Michi could hear the stomping of feet, feet moving in formation from the square. She looked at the man she’d helped.
“I’m fine, thanks to you. Get out of here,” he told her.
Michi took the hint. She started sprinting, only then realizing she was still carrying Franz’ picture. She knew she should drop it, but she couldn’t. Holding it in her right hand, she took off, ignoring the pain that still radiated from her feet. Behind her, she could hear the firing die off while a voice coming out of a speaker in the sky ordered everyone to stop and lie on the ground.
Hell with that!
She quickly passed others who were also fleeing and didn’t slow down until she reached Tamara’s building. She ran up the stairwell instead of waiting for the elevator and made it inside the condo.
It was then that the trembling started, and didn’t stop until Tamara got home from work, unaware yet of what had just happened.
Chapter 13
With martial law declared, sporadic fighting broke out. “Fighting” might not be the best description of it. There was occasional sniping against company targets, and several mini-drone bombs were unleashed. Surprisingly, for a company as large and rich as Propitious Interstellar, they didn’t have any defense for the mini-drones. The jacks had to resort to firing their Jamisons or the few energy weapons they possessed to knock the drones down. Even jamming the frequencies had little effect as whoever was flying them skipped frequencies all the way into the target.
The payloads on the 500-gram drones were not very powerful, so other than causing some minor damage, there was not much in the way of tangible effects. Psychologically, though, PI knew that the people, at least some of the people, had finally had enough to warrant action against the company.
The news feeds, which were all controlled by PI, were the only sources of information that were available on the holos, and they didn’t show much. The key clip seemed to be one where an indentured maintenance worker at Plant 5 had been burnt by a mini-drone strike. The man was obviously in pain, and the holo camera lingered over him as he cried out in anguish while the reporter castigated the “terrorist” act that had caused the injuries.
The indentureds had been confined to their factories, and even the Class I employees were threatened with termination if they didn’t show up for work. There was a curfew in effect from 8:00 PM until 6:00 AM for anyone not on company business. This was not just for PI employees; it pertained to everyone on the planet. Michi was out of the loop, but she knew the First Families would be up in arms. They treasured their independence, and their rights were specified in the charter—a charter that Propitious Interstellar seemed to be ignoring.
Company jacks held several raids. A news crew had been with them for one such raid on an indentured dormitory. All it showed was the jacks man-handling the Class 4s while turning up no weapons. The PR honchos must have stepped in after that as there was no more coverage of raids. However, Michi was able to watch several vids of additional raids by going through her proxy and accessing off-world sites. One of the most downloaded vids was one of a young boy, probably around 10 years old, sitting dazed in a dormitory ladderwell, his face bloody.
Without showing the vid, Propitious Interstellar denied that it was even taken on Kakurega, claiming it was a fake meant to discredit the company’s security forces. Michi wouldn’t put it past someone like Tamberlain, or even Hokkam, to put out some faked footage, but some of the other vids and holos showed jacks in the company uniforms meting out some severe treatment to unresisting people.
All of this galvanized the population. PI was making a big mistake, though, in Michi’s opinion, that is, if they really believed their news releases. According to the company, the “unrest” was a result of off-world agitators rallying the indentureds using misinformation (not that they used the term “indentureds—with them, it was always “Class 4 employees”). Michi didn’t think the company really thought it was off-worlders, but if they thought this was an indentured issue, Michi was sure they had misinterpreted the situation. From the zips she was getting from friends, this “unrest” was far broader than that.
A low explosion sounded outside the window, and Michi got up off the couch where she had been watching holos and looked out. A plume of black smoke was rising up several blocks to the west. Tamara would be coming back home about now, and her route would be close to the smoke. Michi contemplated going out to see if she could find her roommate, but decided it was better to stay in the condo and let Tamara come to her.
Still, it was a tense 45 minutes as she waited, changing her mind back and forth on leaving, until Tamara came in the door in an agitated state.
“Did they show any of it in the news feeds?” she asked breathlessly, looking over to where Michi had been watching them.
“Show what?”
“The fight! The jacks were pulling another raid on the indentureds, but they should have shown up with more. They were dragging three out of the dorm when at least 50 indentureds jumped them. I saw it all from the walkway,” she said, referring to the elevated walkway on which employees who worked in Buildings Four, Five, and Six left the campus and which ran between some of the Class Four dormitories.
“They were beating the crap out of them. I captured some of it on my phone, but I could see the cavalry arriving, so I got the heck out of there. And then, right on the corner of Orville and Mendoza, the friggin’ building blew up, the one with the noodle shop. I was only a block away!”
&n
bsp; Michi took Tamara by the hand and sat her down on the couch.
“It blew up?”
“Yeah, kaboom! It’s a fucking war out there, Michi. A war!”
Chapter 14
Two days later, two days in which clashes had become more frequent, and as Michi and Tamara were sipping tea on their small balcony during a lull in the fighting, several dark shapes flew overhead towards the company campus. Painted on the fuselage, Michi could clearly see the UFMC flash.
The Marines had landed.
Chapter 15
Michi and Tamara walked into a WRP office bustling with activity. The arrival of the Marines had thrown the planet into a tizzy, as could be expected. Not much of substance was being passed over the newsfeeds, only that the Marines were there to restore order and provide security for the “good citizens” of Kakurega. Estranged from her family, Michi did not have any other information sources available to her, so she and Tamara decided to see what the WRP knew about what was going on.
Michi hadn’t even seen a Marine in person yet. There were too few of them around to make much of a physical impact, but the psychological impact was something entirely different. Michi could feel a sense of impending doom in the air, as if father was now home and ready to punish the offending children.
The fact that that Captain Ryck Lysander, the posterboy of the Marines, was one of the commanders of the battalion that landed only heightened the tension. The newsfeeds almost crowed about his presence, going into detail about his history and his “hero” status.
“Look, there’s Cheri,” Tamara pointed out. “Let’s go see what she knows.”
Cheri looked up from a conversation she was having with a young man as the two came up. “Tamara, Michi, how are you?” she asked, leaning forward to kiss each one on the cheek.
“We’re holding out,” Tamara said. “But we’re pretty much in the dark. Anything you can tell us?”
“I, well . . . um . . . Danny, can you give me a moment here?” she asked the young man who nodded and walked off.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you, Michi, but you know, with all of this, it’s been a little hard.”
“About what?”
“Ah . . . maybe here’s not a good place, but I need to get this done. Can I come by tonight before curfew?”
“Uh, sure,” Michi and Tamara said, almost in unison.
“OK, see you then,” she said, looking around as if trying to see who might be watching. “Maybe you should go, and I’ve got a lot to do here before then. See you later.”
She quickly walked off as the two women stared at each other. Michi started to ask what that was all about, but Tamara held up a hand, stopping her.
“Well, it’s good to see everyone,” Tamara said to Michi, but loud enough for anyone trying to overhear to do so. “But you promised me a bubble tea, so let’s boogie.”
She took Michi’s arm in hers and turned around, heading for the door. They stopped only to greet two other people they knew and exchanged banal pleasantries, but within a minute, they were out the door and into the street.
“Bubble tea? You don’t even like it,” Michi said quietly as they walked.
“So, sue me. It was all I could think of,” Tamara whispered. “I should have said coffee, but we’d better stop for some tea.”
“Don’t you think all this cloak-and-dagger stuff is a little much?” Michi whispered back, wishing she had spoken aloud but spooked by Tamara’s actions.
“If it’s too much, no harm, no foul. As it is, better safe than sorry.”
They made their way to the closest tea shop and sat outside in the spring sunshine, sipping their tea. Tamara didn’t like bubble tea much, but Michi loved sucking up the little tapioca balls at the bottom of the cup. Twice, she tried to ask Tamara what was going on, but both times, her roommate changed the subject. Michi thought it was all too much, but she was willing to play along.
They left the tea shop to do some window shopping, ignoring the presence of large numbers of jacks. Along Manteo Drive, with all the high-end shops, the jacks didn’t intrude, but even there, the two women felt eyes on them. Michi found it surprisingly awkward to try and act innocent, as if they were doing nothing.
Eventually, with Tamara controlling the pace, they made it back to the condo.
“So, what’s going on?” Michi demanded as soon as the front door closed.
“You didn’t feel the vibe in there with Cheri?” Tamara asked.
“She was stressed, sure. But wouldn’t you be? What with the Marines tipping the Federation’s hand on where they stood?”
“I think it was more than that. Just call it a gut feeling. Anyway, she’ll be here in an hour. Let’s get ready to dial up a dinner. Maybe the bœuf bourguignon?” she asked, pulling out the keypad on the fabricator. “Why don’t you get a bottle of shiraz and make up some sangria. Cheri is rather partial to that, you know.”
Michi frowned. She had known Cheri for over a year and had dined with her, yet she didn’t know Cheri drank sangria. She wondered just how close Cheri and Tamara really were.
The pitcher of sangria was already down two glasses when the door chimed. Tamara poured a fresh glass and went to let Cheri in.
“Oh, you know me, girl,” Cheri said, gratefully taking the drink.
She took a swallow, gave a happy sigh, then sank down on the overstuffed chair next to the couch.
“So what couldn’t you say at WRP?” Tamara bluntly asked without preamble.
“Getting right to it, huh? You always were direct,” Cheri said.
She took another sip of her drink, and then turned to Michi.
“Michi dear, this is going to be hard, really hard. But I want you to think back to when Franz was killed. Tell me exactly what happened.”
Michi stared at Cheri. Whatever she expected, this was not it. And she had been trying over the last month-and-a-half to move beyond that day, to move beyond the point when her life changed.
“I know this is hard. But please, tell me, what did you see?”
Michi tried to gather her thoughts. She took several deep breaths before starting.
“I was at the studio, practicing—”
“Skip ahead, dear, to when the trouble started.”
“Huh? OK, well, the first two people spoke, and then it was Franz’ turn. He said something funny, and the crowd laughed. You know, like he always does. Did,” she corrected herself, a lump forming in her throat. “He said something about Henry Jugos coming, then started on about how PI needs their workers. You know, like you told me Hokkam wanted. Then the jacks started moving about, like they were nervous or something.”
“And?” Cheri prompted her.
“Franz tried to calm down the jacks. He said we were doing nothing wrong. But it seemed like they might want to arrest him, so I started forward. I wanted to be there. Franz told everyone not to resist, and he even held out his hands like he wanted to be cuffed. Then one of the jacks fired, and Franz shouted out that he was surrendering.”
“Did you actually see a jack firing?” Cheri asked.
“Well, no. But it had to be one of them, right?”
“OK, go on.”
“Well, then, Franz was screaming at the jacks, and, uh . . .”
“What happened next,” Cheri asked as both she and Tamara leaned in.
“You were there,” Michi said angrily, pissed that she had to relive it. “His head exploded. They murdered him!”
Cherie leaned forward, taking Michi’s hands in hers. “Michi, dear, think carefully. I know this is hard, but just how did he get hit?”
“They shot him in the forehead. I saw it. One moment he was shouting, the next his forehead was gone.”
“And which way was he facing?”
“I told you. He was shouting at the jacks, and they shot him in the head.”
Michi gulped in the air, trying not to break down. Cheri just looked at her in sympathy.
“You happy now?” Michi asked, pulli
ng back from the woman.
“Michi, when a bullet hits, it makes a small entry wound. When it exits the body, it makes a huge, catastrophic wound, just like what happened to Franz.”
Michi stared at Cheri, then simply asked “What?”
Tamara sucked in some air as she seemed to realize what Cheri was inferring.
“Michi, Franz was shot from behind the crowd. He was not shot by the jacks.”
“Bullshit! I was there! I saw it.”
“Michi, dear, most of the jacks were armed with their Jamisons, not projectile weapons. And none carried the caliber of weapon that probably took Franz’ life. The PI report absolved the security forces, but we weren’t sure.”
“Of course, those bastards would absolve the jacks.”
“All of the security recordings are classified, and we have tried to hack them, but what you just said confirms what PI reported, and from what we are getting from our sources inside. Franz was not killed by the jacks.”
“But . . . but maybe they sent one of them to the back of the crowd to kill him, to confuse people,” Michi said, not willing to let go of her convictions.
She had killed a jack because of what happened to Franz. They had to be guilty.
“That could be. It might even be probable. But we don’t know.”
“Who else would want him dead? No, it was the jacks, and if not them personally, it was Propitious Interstellar.”
“I agree with Michi,” Tamara offered. “Who else had the motive?”
Cheri looked at the other two for a moment and seemed to come to a decision. “We don’t know. It probably is the company, but it also seems we have a traitor in WRP.”
The two roommates looked at Cheri in stunned silence.
“That’s why I wanted to come here and not talk at the office. There have been too many coincidences, starting with that rally. We changed the position of the stage from what we had been permitted due to the planting of the spring flowers. We never submitted that change.”
Galaxia Page 74