Counter-Measures

by W. Michael Gear

  Rysta gestured with a thin arm, the piping on her uniform sleeve glinting in the faint light from the hatch. "Did you ever wonder why we have these silly blisters? We can run observations from the bridge, using remote instruments.

  If we're busy, that's how we do it, and the image is piped right into the main comm."

  "Then it doesn't seem to make much sense. The hull would have more integrity without the blisters. It would seem to me they would be vulnerable to damage in combat. "

  Rysta nodded. "Smart girl. We'd be better off without holes in the hull-even ones capped by tactite. No, it's a psychological reason. Monitors don't fill that human need to look outside, to see the universe. It's something within us, a sense of claustrophobia, I guess. They ran studies long ago. People don't function as efficiently when you stick them inside a metal and ceramic bottle and cap it. The effects don't become noticeable until a couple of months pass, but the crew has to have a window. "

  "It doesn't surprise me. I suppose that's why I came up here. "

  Rysta shifted, eyes bright. "You're a psychologist. What does it mean?"

  Chrysla shook her head as she gazed absently through the transparent tactite at the flat blackness beyond. "Our species developed on a planet. We know that from our physiology, the way we respond to extended exposure to zero g. It's something in our genetic makeup, or perhaps we absorb the need to see out from our culture."

  "They ever figure out which planet we came from?" "No. We came from none of the planets we're now living on. Some have speculated that our home world was destroyed, either through a cosmic accident, or by human action. I'd guess a war. Knowing our species, it wouldn't surprise me. None of the studies conducted in asteroid belts have produced even a hint of human origins. "

  "Staffa thinks the Earth myth is true, that it's on the other side of the Forbidden Borders. "

  "Perhaps. We had to have come from some place, Commander. We didn't just spring out of the vacuum."

  They shared a long silence, then Rysta asked, "So you came up to look at the stars. Needed to look outside, huh? "

  "Evidently, so did you. Shouldn't you be on the bridge?" "Naw, Mac's up there keeping the command chair warm. I just come down here to get away, think about things, you know? "

  Chrysla nodded.

  "I've been meaning to tell you, I want to thank you for pulling us out of that mess at the Defense Ministry. Ily would have had us, but for your quick thinking. You saved all of us." She paused. "Once, I would have nominated you for a civilian medal. Nowadays, I can only offer my appreciation. "

  Chrysla settled herself on the bench across from Rysta, oddly embarrassed.

  "Thank you, Commander. I'm surprised I had it in me."

  From her space pouch, Rysta pulled a battered hip flask. The cap had been jeweled once, but now her thin fingers gripped holes in the settings as she unscrewed the longthreaded stopper. She extended the flask. "Ashtan single malt. Best there is."

  Chrysla cast a measuring glance at Rysta as she took the flask. The metal rested smoothly in her long fingers, then she sipped. The liquor slid easily down her throat. "Good stuff. "

  ' 'You bet, " Rysta grunted as she took the flask, threw her head back, and gulped a swig. Licking her lips, she studied Chrysla curiously. "I don't know all the story, but from what I've heard, you've had one hell of a life."

  Chrysla allowed herself to relax and sink into the formfitting cushions and closed her eyes. The whiskey settled warmly in her belly. "One hell of a life?

  You're a master of understatement, Commander. '

  It's none of my business, mind you, but how did you deal with Staffa back then? He was colder than hydrogen ice. "

  " You know, I don't think we really dealt with each othernot in the beginning.

  He was a god, and I was his jeweled concubine. Compared to the alternative I'd have faced on Sylene, I can assure you I had no complaints. " Chrysla frowned.

  "It was only later that we really started talking. He fascinated me. Fool that I was, I thought I could figure

  out how a man like him could only be half human. First I discovered that I admired him for his brilliance. Afterward I fell in love with him."

  "So do you still love him? Even after twenty years away from him?"

  Chrysla took the flask Rysta handed her and filled her mouth with the amber liquor. "I'll always love him." She frowned. "And part of me will always yearn. Skyla doesn't know how lucky she is."

  Rysta gave her a measuring look. "Do you want to talk about it?"

  Chrysla pursed her lips, hesitating. She took another sip of the whiskey, then shook her head.

  Rysta sighed, flipping a hand to diffuse the sudden reserve. "I would imagine it's a pretty lonely existence. Did you ever have anyone to talk to? No?"

  Chrysla laughed bitterly. "The Praetor kept me locked away like a priceless ornament. Imagine stealing the Regan jessant-de-lis from "I"Ybalt's throne room. Who could you show it to? You couldn't even allow your most trusted friend to see it, because if so much as a rumor drifted out, they'd come for you. I lived like that, Commander. A gilded prisoner in splendid isolation."

  "I'd have slit my wrists."

  "I would have loved to, Commander." Chrysla took another swallow of single malt. "The pus-licking bastard would come in to gloat over me for a while, then he'd be off again. Once I managed to steal a vibraknife from his things.

  If I'd thought it through, I'd have cut myself-but I had this desire to take him first." Chrysla glanced at Rysta. "Never let your emotions cloud your judgment."

  "He got away?"

  "Cut too low. His med staff patched him up."

  "Too bad." Rysta paused. "Before that, as Staffa's wife, things couldn't have been much better. Is that one of the reasons you came to love the Lord Commander in the beginning? Was he the only person who'd talk to you as an equal? "

  Chrysla nodded, despite the twinge that stung her.

  "I watched the reactions during the meetings aboard Chrysla. Mac looked at anything except you. On those occasions when Sinklar looked your way, it wasn't exactly with

  the expression that a son would use." Rysta reached across for the flask.

  "That was one of the reasons you left, wasn't it? "

  "You're pretty observant."

  "It's part of what command is all about. Knowing people, understanding motivations and personalities. In the last couple hundred years, I've become somewhat proficient at it.

  "I didn't have a place there." The mellow ache expanded as the whiskey worked on her.

  "After the way you handled the situation we landed in on Rega, you've got a place among my crew anytime you want it. " Rysta squinted out at the black murk. "In the beginning, I wondered about you, about the effect you were having on Mac."

  "I detect a note of fondness when you mention him." Rysta jerked a short nod.

  "I like the boy. He's got real potential. He's loyal, smart, and a damned fine soldier. He reminds me of what Regans were like back before the empire began to grow. He's got initiative."

  Chrysla smiled in spite of herself. "He's a good man." "What are you going to do about him?"

  "I don't know."

  "He cares a great deal for you. Enough that it might not be healthy for him."

  "Carefully put, Commander."

  Rysta's wrinkles tightened as she raised an eyebrow. "Staffa's not a man I'd trifle with."

  "He's not the Star Butcher. Not anymore."

  "You willing to bet your ass and Mac's on that?"

  " Staffa's not the man I once knew and worshiped." "That bothers you?"

  Chrysla sighed. "Being around him now, it's the same as being around a god who's just discovered he's mortal. Single-handedly, he's trying to save us all. A suffering martyr." Chrysla rubbed her eyes with thumb and forefinger.

  "Martyrs fare poorly. They bleed for everyone."

  "He'll survive. "

  Chrysla tilted her head. "What about you? What motivates you now that the emp
ire is gone?"

  Rysta grunted under her breath. "I'm too damned old to give up. The Service has been my life. Rejuv has reached

  its end. You can rework a body just so many times. I'm at the stage now where I only have a few productive years left. Then some smart kid like Mac comes along and pulls an innovative trick out of his head-like he did with the Markelos-and I realize just how old I am."

  "He has a lot of respect for you."

  Rysta smiled, and silence stretched between them. "Yes, it was lonely,"

  Chrysla finally confided. "Nothing worked out the way I hoped it would. Not with Staffa, not with Sinklar. I couldn't stay, Commander. I had to get out.

  Staffa, bless him, would have strangled me with his protection. " She bowed her head. "Every time he looked at me . . . 1-I couldn't stand the guilt in his eyes."

  "Blames himself, does he?"

  "It wasn't his fault. The Praetor was a brilliant man. In the end, though, he paid. Those last years were miserable for him. He had to watch Staffa build empires for his enemies. I watched him rot inside, knowing Staffa would come for him, break him like a dry stick. He'd created a monster that would destroy him in the end."

  "Sounds like just rewards to me."

  Chrysla picked at her dress. "Perhaps. I watched as all of his plans collapsed to dust around him. Staffa was created to be the conqueror who would hand all of Free Space to Myklene. Instead, he destroyed them."

  "What about you? What do you want to do?" "Stabilize the situation on Ashtan.

  After that .

  Chrysla shook her head when Rysta tried to hand the flask back. "I've had enough."

  With deft fingers, Rysta screwed the top back on. "You still haven't told me what ou're going to do about Mac. Being around you . . . " " ,

  "I know." Chrysla sighed. "It wasn't fair of me to come here. 99

  "That's your decision." Rysta frowned, resettling herself. "What are you going to do? Just torment the boy . . . and yourself, too?"

  "Myself?" Rysta studied her curiously., "It's none of my business, and the Blessed Gods alone know how Staffa would react, but you've fallen in love with MacRuder, haven't you?" Chrysla nodded.

  Rysta grunted as she got to her feet, bones crackling. "Well girl, it's your life, and you have to live it the way you think best, but if I were you, I'd find a sliver of happiness where I could. We've unleashed the Rotted Gods' own turmoil, and once we make planet at Ashtan, who knows which turns fate will take."

  Chrysla stared vacantly at the roiling blackness beyond the tactite as the Commander walked out.

  The Terguzzi Internal Security Directorate hadn't been designed for meetings on this scale. Ily watched through the comm monitor in Gyper Rill's office.

  She sat in Gyper's padded gravchair while Arta lounged on one of the couches.

  The Seddi assassin reclined like a resting cat, one leg up, propped on a pillow.

  The meeting downstairs packed the room, overflow filling the hallways and extending into the street. The administrative complex at Terguz had been bored out of the ice, a giant warren of subsurface buildings, girders, and duct work. For this meeting, half of Terguz had to have been present. The potential for civil chaos sent chills through Ily.

  In allowing so great a security risk, Gyper was either insane, or a genius.

  Despite the fact that the Planetary Administrator had outlawed any such gathering, Ily couldn't help but admire Gyper's audacity in holding it here, right under the Administrator's nose.

  That the security comm recorded each face, noting the person's ID, barely mollified Ily's unease. That many people, so close, could destroy the Ministry-and Gyper wouldn't have time to react before they tore him to pieces.

  A burly man, bald, with a round face and almond eyes took the podium. Gyper sat to one side, apparently relaxed. Applause and roars of approbation filled the air.

  "We're here again," the man shouted. The crowd roared.

  " You'd think he was a messiah," Arta noted from her couch. "I wonder if he'd be a challenge?"

  "To you, no man is a challenge."

  The bald man spread his arms wide. "A new age has washed over Free Space like a wave. We have the opportunity to be in the forefront. Terguz stands to gain a great deal. We have the trading links between what's left of Rega and Sassa. "

  The speaker studied his audience. "The time has come for us to stand alone, to create our own future."

  Ily bristled. "Maybe taking him out wouldn't be such a bad idea. What's Gyper doing? Just sitting there?"

  The speaker continued, "Our destiny lies before us. No longer must we act as the creaking back door for Emperors, no longer the sewer for the empire's slaked lust. A shining future beckons to each of us."

  The crowd roared again.

  "I wonder how Staffa is going to react to that? " Arta mused.

  "He'll crush them like Vermilion ants under his heel," Ily predicted.

  The speaker spread his arms wide again. "I have talked to Director Rill. I have taken our demands before him. Tonight, he has promised answers, solutions to the common problems we face. Let us hear him!"

  Another roar of applause broke out as Gyper stood, straightening his black tunic and taking the podium. To Ily's surprise, Gyper shook the speaker's hand, smiling like a rapist in an Etarian Temple.

  Rill cleared his throat, arms braced on the podium. "My fellow citizens, as you know, the Administrator, in his Imperial wisdom, banned this gathering. "

  The silence was cut by a few jeers. The security comm efficiently located the vocalists. "The time for such actions is past." Cheers rang out. "If the Administrator won't deal with the future, I will', The roar deafened.

  Gyper gave them another of his easy smiles. "I have studied the list of demands, and I hesitate to give you my reply

  "He's good," Arta admitted. "He's got them hooked." "And the wrong word will bring this building down around our ears," Ily growled, tension rising. "The emergency escape is through that wall panel. Rotted Gods help us if we can't make it to the ship. "

  Gyper played the crowd for all he could, then stated,

  "Despite the proclamations of the Administrator, I accept the following demands:

  " One. Shifts in the mines shall be cut from twelve hours to ten. "

  The crowd whooped and whistled.

  ' 'Two. Work in excess of ten hours shall be rewarded by that individual's increase in share, from one standard credit unit, to one and quarter."

  More bedlam.

  "Three. The newly formed workers' committees shall have the right to bring complaints to the Board of Directors. There . . . " He waited until he could be heard again. "There, we shall jointly agree how to resolve the situation. "

  Ily closed her eyes, shaking her head. "How long do we have to listen to this?"

  Arta's eyes had narrowed to slits. "They love him. Look at the adoration in their eyes."

  -Gyper has the morals of a Riparian blood leech. They love a self-serving despot."

  "Four!" Gyper shouted. "Representatives from the workers' committees shall serve on an administrative body which will determine the government of the colony."

  Ily reddened as the jubilant crowd exploded. "He's just declared anarchy!"

  She closed her eyes, refusing to listen as Gyper capitulated to point after point. "This is madness. I should have let you kill him."

  "I thought you'd been enjoying him?" Arta gave her a neutral look. "But I'd love to give him the ride of his life." Ily sighed wearily. -"The problem is, my dear Arta, that we need a safe haven. Rill has promised us that."

  "But at what price?"

  Ily tapped at her teeth with a long fingernail. "Unfortunately, that remains to be seen."

  Gyper used his arms to gesture the crowd to silence. "My people, a new age is upon us. The old empire is gone, swept away. You and 1, together, will forge a new future, one our children can look to with hope and aspiration. Terguz is a bitter world, but working together, we can plant a seedling
here. As the Seddi teach, we can each walk in pride, building a new epistemology! Thank you, and may the Quantum Gods shed their illumination within!

  Gyper retreated to his seat while rolls of applause shook the building. In defiance of the insulation, Ily could hear it booming through the walls.

  "The Administrator has just been castrated," Arta said soberly. " Gyper is Terguz. "

  "Along with the rest of the unwashed louts."

  Arta inspected her long fingers, then glanced at Ily. "Do not underestimate him, Ily. "

  Chafing unease ate at her while other speakers rose to add their optimism and enthusiasm. Gyper handled it well, directing the proceedings. Finally, soothingly, he supervised the closing, wishing the people well as they slowly filed out of the building.

  Arta had fallen asleep on the couch. A slow fire smoldered in Ily.

  She still stared at the monitor when Gyper entered, face flushed and damp with perspiration. He unbuttoned the top of his black tunic, that same silly smile on his face. "Well?"

  Arta stirred, stretching. Gyper's smile went slack as he watched the muscles play beneath Fera's satin skin.

  "I ought to kill you now," Ily stated bluntly. "Just what kind of street show was that?"

  Rill's expression hardened. "The future. Ily.

  "Future! They're rabble! Little more than freed beasts!" Gyper Rill nodded.

  "Indeed, but they're my beasts. What did you think? That the Seddi could broadcast their heresy and people would meekly remain in harness? No, Ily, that time is past. Nothing, no matter how hard you try, will ever be the same again."

  "You are a fool, Gyper. The Administrator will be on the comm at this very minute, if he has any sense."

  "And who will he call?" Gyper tilted his head. " Tybalt? The nearest Squadron Commander? Perhaps he'll appeal to the Star Butcher?"

  "He might!"

  Gyper continued to smile, unfazed by her rage. "He'll be too late. I've already sent a message to Itreata. Staffa was out of touch, but I talked to Kaylla Dawn, the Seddi Magister. I've informed her that we will cooperate in any manner that we can."