by Ben Weaver
“Sir, no, sir,” I replied, then Halitov echoed. We rose, saluted, then spun on our heels and started for the door.
“Gentlemen, I regret that the urgency of war has forced us to abandon the pomp and circumstance attached to promotion. However, you should take these.” He held up the pins between his thumb and forefinger.
Halitov and I flushed as we turned back and accepted our captain’s gons.
The general’s expression grew earnest and, surprisingly, his voice cracked. “God bless you both.”
We left the office and shuttled up to our assault carrier, unaware that as our ship pulled out of orbit, Strident lifted a pistol to his temple and proved his superior marksmanship. His blood splattered over the casualty report he had been reading. A few drops also caught a picture of his daughter, whom he had just learned had been murdered by Alliance Marines.
Tawting to Kennedy-Centauri would be anything but an uncomplicated affair. We needed to stop off in six other systems to take on or drop off personnel. We were told that the entire trip would last an uncharacteristic two days. I had barely settled into my three-meter-by-five-meter quarters when my hatchcomm beeped. “Captain St. Andrew? It’s Captain Kristi Breckinridge, your AAT instructor.”
“Thought we weren’t scheduled until nineteen hundred,” I answered, tripping over my duffel as I headed to the hatch in boxers and T-shirt.
“We’re not.”
The hatch cycled open. Breckinridge stood a few centimeters taller than me, and in spite of her utilities, I could tell she was in excellent physical condition, breasts small and firm, muscles not too large. Her dark hair was razored short, over the ears, cropped close to her neck, and she had gelled it back, away from her narrow face. She cocked a brow and widened her pale blue eyes. “May I come in?”
I tipped my head and shifted aside.
She crossed directly to my tiny desk, whose top folded up into the bulkhead, and took a seat. “Captain, General Strident recruited me from the Colonial Wardens to help you and Captain Halitov complete your assimilation. Unfortunately, that’ll be impossible.”
“Why?”
“I’ll explain. But first I come bearing an offer from my CO, Colonel Beauregard, who’s setting up a meeting for you on Kennedy-Centauri.”
“What’s this about?”
“We’d like you to join the Colonial Wardens.”
I threw my head back and laughed. “My last platoon mutinied on me—and what happens? I’m selected for an elite black op mission, we kill some of our own people by mistake, and I end up promoted to captain. Now I get an offer to join the most powerful special forces group in the Corps. Maybe I should go fight for the alliances. I can become a general!” I shook my head. “Do any of you people realize who you’re dealing with? I’m a colo. I grew up in a tunnel. Look at my cheek.”
“Which is exactly why you’re so valuable. On Kennedy-Centauri you’ll meet a woman who’s just like you: epineuropathic residuum and extraordinary capabilities. Only difference is, her conditioning is flawless and her assimilation is complete. She’s your future.”
“But you just said I can’t complete my assimilation, and I bet that’s because my conditioning is screwed up. How is this woman my future?”
“We’ll recondition you.”
“I thought Exeter was held by the alliances.”
“It is. And the conditioning machines there are not functioning properly. About eight months ago, the Wardens found another facility on Aire-Wu. We’ve kept its existence to ourselves because, Mr. St. Andrew, we have our own plan for winning the war, a plan that doesn’t include the new colonial government, a plan that’ll show you what those blue lights were and reveal the truth about your brother.”
“What are talking about? My brother’s dead.”
“They won’t allow me to tell you any more.”
“So you’re baiting me with lies and false hopes to join your coup,” I said, disgusted that she had wasted my time. “Why don’t you just make it easy on yourselves and defect to the alliances?”
“Because we believe in colonial freedom. We just have a better plan to obtain it. This new government supported by the Seventeen will fall. You were on Mars, one of the first colonies. The alliances didn’t beat us with hardware. Propaganda helped win over seventy-five percent of the population. Kind of hard to defend people as they’re stabbing you in the back.”
I rubbed my stubble-laden cheeks in frustration. “And it’s kind of hard to fight in a Corps when you realize that its special forces are doing the same.” I wondered if it had occurred to the Wardens that the colonial congress and Security Council might have learned about their secret. I remembered how Ms. Brooks had been so emphatic about delivering those tawting codes. Maybe those codes led to Aire-Wu and the second conditioning facility…
“Captain, I didn’t mean to dump all of this on you. And you’re right; I could be lying. I could be a plant to test your loyalty, but I’m not. You’re in a position to help a lot of people. We’re not asking you to do anything but your duty.”
“You’re asking me to betray the new colonial government.”
“We won’t take over the government. We’re just going to give it a nudge in the right direction.”
“And you need me to help do that.”
“Exactly.”
I glared at her. “I’m a tool. Use me.”
“You don’t think you’re being used right now?” She snorted. “Joining us is the logical choice. We can guarantee your transfer.”
“I don’t know…”
“At least attend the meeting. You owe it to yourself. And were I you, I’d take a long, hard look in the mirror.”
I shook my head as she left. Something about her tone finally drove me to my latrine, to the mirror above my sink. I assumed that I was supposed to examine the man beneath the skin, but I could not get past the skin itself. A fresh hint of crow’s-feet spread out from my eyes and vanished into my cheeks. Halitov’s face bore the same lines, though I had attributed his to guilt. A few gray hairs had sprouted at my temples. I came within a few centimeters of the mirror. Ohmygod.
About an hour later, Halitov arrived with a bottle of Tau Ceti vodka, which, he explained, he had just received from one of the platoon leaders as a welcome gift.
I lay in my rack, trembling, hardly listening, imagining that I felt myself dying by the second. When Halitov urged me to get up and share a quick drink with him, I shook my head. “Remember that woman in the Minsalo Caves? The one I told you about?”
He insisted on pouring me a glass, brought it over. “We’re aging prematurely. I know all about it. I first noticed it back on Mars. I didn’t want to say anything. We’re burnin’ twice as bright. Should we have expected anything less of the military? Maybe that’s why they keep promoting us; they know we’re gonna drop soon. Anyway, we got just what we wanted—our ticket out. ’Course, we bought it on credit. Have a drink.”
I took the glass, sniffed the vodka, then raised my glass.
He turned away. “There’s nothing to toast. Just drink.”
“Yeah.” I winced over the burn.
“They couldn’t find me for three days,” he said quickly, keeping his back to me. “I was only eight. Those little fuckin’ punks were waiting for me at the train stop. Locked me in a cargo container. Hid it in the basement of a restaurant, in the compressor room. They spent a few hours each day laughing at me. I remember the voice of this old man who had found me. He must have been a Terran from England. Real soft voice. He used a few words I didn’t understand. I remember he started crying as he carried me out of there. I couldn’t see anything that first day. I spent a couple years with a shrink, who eventually told my parents that I had learned to cope with the experience. Fuckin’ jerk. I don’t know. It’s just when it comes on me, the memories, they’re…I can’t help myself. Sometimes, I don’t remember what I’ve said. It’s like I go back there and can’t even see where I am. That night I had you in your rack? I was
n’t even there. I should’ve told you this sooner. I should’ve told you when I noticed the aging, but I guess it doesn’t bother me. I got nobody left. Nobody will miss me.”
“What about your sister?”
“Haven’t heard anything. She could already be dead.”
I finished my vodka, coughed, then crawled to the edge of my rack.
Halitov shielded his face with a hand and wiped away tears as quickly as they fell. “Scott, you don’t know how sorry I am about what happened with Dina. You don’t know how bad I wanted to help. I wish I could make you understand. Fuck!”
I understood, but I wasn’t sure that telling him would make a difference. He was the one who needed to understand. “Listen to me, Rooslin. There might be a way around the aging.”
“How?”
“I met our AAT instructor. What I’m about to tell you is as classified as it gets…”
Halitov had assembled my company in bay thirty-nine, a spectacular hangar berthing about sixty insertion vehicles whose holds bore dozens of tac-powered hovercraft we would need on Kennedy-Centauri. The planet had a breathable atmosphere, and life-support systems were not a consideration, so localized EMP bombs would be dropped in Plymouth. Each of the one hundred and sixty-two people in my company knew very well that once we made planetfall, all of the high-tech weaponry in all of the colonies could not help them. Bayonets. K-bars. Rocks. Sticks. Fists. Iron wills. Those would be our weapons. That is, until researchers finally developed those sidearms and rifles powered by our life forces. Of course, other researchers would develop weapons to render those weapons harmless. We would return to the intimacy of our hands.
I was supposed to give my people the proverbial welcome message in which I introduced myself as the new company commander, detailed my philosophy of command, and shared my expectations. I paced before the long, rigid rows of personnel at parade rest, eyeing soldiers who were, for the most part, older than me but just as worn-looking. I finally reached the small dais that Halitov had rolled up, and ascended to look out across the group, praying that they had not seen me shudder. “Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Captain Scott St. Andrew. I’m your company commander. This is where I give you the pep talk and make all those threats about how I’ll be booting you in the ass if you’re not keeping up with me.”
That drew a few mild grins.
“Truth is, I never wanted to be here. I went to South Point so I could get off Gatewood-Callista. In the beginning, it wasn’t about freedom or anything as remotely noble. I just didn’t want to be a second-class citizen, a gennyboy with no future. I figured service with the Seventeen was the next best thing to being a Terran myself. I’d become an officer. I’d be respected, even with this birthmark on my face. Then, when I got to the academy, I started thinking about what a soldier really is. I started thinking about that life, and I realized that I couldn’t wear the uniform just to get off my colony. I needed a better reason, otherwise I wouldn’t make it. Ladies and gentlemen, we’re fighting for what United States President Abraham Lincoln called ‘a just and lasting peace,’ for the honor and dignity of calling ourselves free people. That is the good fight. That is why we wear the uniform. Of course, this means you might have to stare some young woman in the eye. She’s so close you can smell her breath and count the freckles on her nose. You give her an entire life. You know all of her secrets. She’s as real as they come—not just a soldier but a person who doesn’t deserve to die. It’s not her fault she’s in the wrong place at the wrong time. Who the hell are you to dictate her fate? So just this once, you’ll show some mercy. You let her go. You feel good about yourself. The military hasn’t turned you into a mindless killer. You can still get the job done without tearing up families. Then a few minutes later you watch that same woman kill your squad sergeant with the fortitude that you lacked.”
Of course, they saw right through me, and that was exactly what I wanted.
“Our job—our duty—is to kill the enemy, and we will kill. We will show no mercy. But we will always be conscious of our actions. Most of all, we will never, ever forget. Ladies and gentlemen? What’s the best company?”
“Sir, Zodiac Company, sir!”
“Who will own Plymouth Colony?”
“Sir, Zodiac Company, sir!”
I stood before my cheering people, and it might have been pride I felt, I was too nervous to tell. I did know that I had never believed in anything as deeply as what I had told them. I knew that from that point on I would take nothing for granted, savor every moment, and—for the first time—really live.
APPENDICES
Appendix A
Chronology of Important Events in Galactic Expansion
SEARCH PARAMETERS:
2062–2301
Twenty-first Century Multinational Efforts
Twenty-second and Twenty-third Century Alliance and Corporate Expeditions
2062
Lunar subterranean research facilities are established ($23 trillion over budget). Industrial ring station at Lagrange Point 5 engages in zero-G production of purer metals and more perfect/larger crystal growth.
2068
First Martian outpost is founded, paving way for colonization via corporate sponsorship. The rich, the politically affluent, and the scientific community flock to Mars. Construction begins on orbital living environments.
2071
Europa deep-core drilling operation draws 150,000 workers and becomes largest offworld settlement to date. Efforts yield discovery of microorganisms living beneath ice crust. Concurrent experiments in molecular nanotechnology give rise to first generation of new high-strength, low-weight materials for computers and launch vehicles.
2077
Titan moon mine goes on-line. During first month of operation, 1,902 miners killed in worst offworld disaster. Terraforming experiments with blue-green algae begin on Venus.
2085
Oberon mountain mines yield $500 trillion in resources during first six months of operation. Profits dubbed by media as “Shakespeare’s Blessing,” since moon was named after character in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Need for skilled workers creates job rush among lower and middle classes, who leave Terra in droves. Physically challenged persons seek freedom of zero-G living environments.
2099
During construction of way station on Neptune’s moon Nereid, ruins of ancient alien race are discovered. Humanity has proof that we are not alone. Unable to decipher the aliens’name, scientists simply call them “The Race.” Corporations and licensors make fortunes on everything from alien T-shirts to nose rings.
2101
Rim stations are constructed in orbit of Pluto and moon Charon. Experiments with faster-than-light travel via Telic drive result in serious loss of equipment and personnel. Exploratory ship Godspeed estimated to lie six trillion years in future.
During next four decades, upper-class residents of many offworld colonies begin to return home. Living offworld, though initially glamorous, is ultimately rough and miserable. Real estate prices on Terra soar. Middle and lower classes are slowly driven off Terra for “better opportunities” offworld.
2144
Alien engine dubbed the Tecnocabalistic Drive System (TDS) yields development of second-generation Telic drive: the Trans Advanced Wave Theory (TAWT) drive. First craft equipped with TAWT drive reaches star Rigil Kent A with forty thousand volunteers. Some colonists have terminal diseases or genetic defects from offworld living and seek a sanctuary to die or live without persecution. Colony established on planet Kennedy-Centauri. Despite deaths, population is projected to quadruple within twenty years.
2158
Rogolov-Barnard is discovered in the Barnard’s Star solar system. First extrasolar mining operation established in primary colony of Lhasa. Population reaches four million within two standard years.
2179
Multinational exploratory ship Driftmadien finally completed in Rogolov-Barnard orbit. Ship leaves for Wolf 359 solar system and returns
within a year with news that the second planet from sun is suitable for colonization, though conditions are not much better than on planet Kennedy-Centauri. Citizens of Rogolov-Barnard are lured to this new colony with promises of triple pay by multinational conglomerates who seek to exploit this new world’s natural resources. Nearly one million leave to settle on Wolf Bane II.
2180
Driftmadien is scheduled to leave during February 2180 for Lalande 21185 solar system, 1.5 light-years away, but the ship is held back because of political turmoil on Terra.
During the next forty years, bloody conventional and biological wars lead to the establishment of the Eastern and Western Alliances, which “unite” people of Terra in two great superpowers reminiscent of the twentieth-century balance of power. Alliances’ first act: declare Earth a “protected planet” because ecological catastrophe looms on horizon. Colonists are only allowed to return to Earth via new passports approved by the government. Processing time: five to ten years. Criminals with sentences of five or more years are deported to the newly established Uruk Sulcus Penitentiary on the Jovian moon Ganymede.
2220
Expansion resumes in earnest, while Terra barely escapes ecocatastrophe. Satellite Gatewood-Callista is discovered in the Lalande 21185 system, orbiting Saturn-like gas giant 21185 b. This moon is a harsh, inhospitable world rich in ore deposits. Within four years, subterranean colonies and accompanying mining facilities serve as home to nearly ninety million. Gatewood-Callista becomes the most profitable colony in existence and boasts most complex orbiting launch and research platform to date.
2233
Colonial expansion resumes after a second lag due to market crash. Inte-Micro Corporation violates Colonial Prudence Order and “tawts out” 11.2 light-years. Ursula-Gates is discovered in orbit of star 61 Cygni A. In a series of brilliant legal maneuvers, lawyers from Inte-Micro Corporation claim squatters’ rights for this new world and establish a precedent for independent exploration (the Colonization Ordinance of 2233 is written and approved by the alliances). Inte-Micro will own the colony but pay heavy taxes for the right to sell goods and services to other Alliance-held colonies. Extraterrestrial artifacts found on the planet are the exclusive property of the alliances.