Just Compensation

by Robert N. Charrette

  At three meters from the entrance, Tom dropped the pretense and pointed his weapon at the guards. Hanley and Jackson did likewise. There were six guards and only the three of them, but their weapons were aimed and the guards’ were not. Jordan’s white-gloves weren’t stupid, and none of them wanted to be the first to die. They dropped their weapons and raised their hands. Tom could see that they were disappointed when there was no clatter from the falling weapons. Motioning the MPs aside, Tom moved to the perimeter control box and deactivated the shock nets. He pointed his weapon at the sky, the signal for Kit to drop the spell. It had done its work; they’d reached the TOC without an alarm.

  Markowitz and Andy raced across the open space as Tom, flanked by Hanley and Jackson, entered the center. A few techs looked up in shock at the sight of men with leveled weapons, but most remained unaware for the moment—jacked-in techs didn’t notice much that happened around them. For the moment, those living in the Matrix could be ignored. As Hanley’s men began to enter the TOC, Tom gave the order to surrender.

  “Nobody moves or does anything foolish, and nobody gets hurt.” he told them. “We’re not Confeds.”

  Faced with almost sixty armed grunts with ready weapons, none of the staff or techs chose to be heroes. Several of the officers looked as though they were thinking about it.

  “All we want to do is get some things cleared up with General Trahn.” Tom said, hoping the itchy-looking officers would give him the chance.

  Markowitz’s arrival with the bound and gagged Furlann in tow seemed to do more to cow them than the weapons or anything Tom had said. Under the glare of hostile eyes, a squad of Hanley’s men moved through the TOC, forcibly dumping techies from the Matrix by jacking them out. When the TOC was secure, Tom directed Andy to the main ops console. Andy scurried to the seat and jacked in.

  They’d done it!

  Or had they? Trahn wasn’t present; neither was Jordan or Lessem. Tom hadn’t really expected to catch Lessem. He’d hoped for Jordan, but could live with the disappointment as long as they got Trahn. But the general was nowhere to be seen. “Where’s Trahn?”

  When no one volunteered the information, Tom repeated his question, this time directing it specifically to the senior officer present, a colonel named Addison.

  “We want to speak to the general, Colonel Addison. You will tell us where he is.”

  “Go to hell.” Addison snarled. “Anyone who talks to these men will—” Addison shut up with a whuff as Jackson jabbed the butt of his weapon into the colonel’s stomach.

  The sergeant finished for him. “—will, if he’s very lucky, not be up on the same charges of attempted murder the general’s facing.”

  The sergeant’s attempt at intimidation didn’t work. No one spoke.

  Markowitz whispered in Tom’s ear. “He’s got to be nearby or they wouldn’t be so closed-mouthed. If he was far away, they’d be gloating about it.”

  Tom had reached the same conclusion. The general’s personal van was closed; he’d only seen Trahn close it up when he went in to sleep. Addison was still curled on the ground, puking, so Tom asked another officer.

  “All right, Major Ridley, your turn. The general’s in his van, isn’t he?”

  “No.” Ridley said, but his eyes flickered to the van, belying his words.

  “By himself?” Tom asked.

  “He’s not in there.” Ridley insisted.

  “Sounds like Major Ridley here’s an accessory after the fact.” Markowitz said.

  “We just want the general to answer some questions.” Tom said.

  “Are the charges true?” Ridley asked.

  “I’m the one he tried to have killed.” Tom said.

  Ridley searched Tom’s face and made a decision. “The general wanted to rest before the assault on the Comper-held Metro stations began at 2400 hours.”

  Tom hadn’t known about that operation. The Center’s clock said that jump-off time was only minutes away. If the general didn’t issue the orders, the assault would hang fire. Maybe this mad ploy had a chance to do some good. If all was in place ...

  Andy gave a thumbs-up, signaling that he’d successfully taken control of the MilNet access for Trahn’s command. Tom nodded affirmation. His mouth was dry as he activated the direct line to General Trahn’s van.

  “General, you asked to be called when the next phase of the operation was ready to begin.”

  The general’s response was quick, but puzzled. “Rocquette?”

  The ramp descended and Trahn emerged from his van. He stood at the top of the ramp and took in the situation with a glance, surveying the scene as calmly and coolly as if he were in charge. His icy glare made more than one of Hanley’s grunts flinch. Tom knew how they felt. Despite everything that had happened, it felt wrong to be holding weapons trained on a general, especially one as decorated and revered as Nathan Trahn.

  Trahn scowled. “I could have you shot for this, Rocquette.”

  “You already tried that once, General. It didn’t work. Furlann told us everything. Your power play’s over.”

  “You’re the one making a power play.” Trahn said without missing a beat. “I don’t know what your game is, Rocquette, but neither you nor anyone foolish enough to go along with you will profit from it.”

  “We know what’s going on, General.” Hanley said as he brought Furlann forward. The lieutenant unstrapped the muzzle and pulled off the hood so Trahn would have no doubt about who’d informed on him. He shoved Furlann forward. The mage stumbled and landed in a heap at the general’s feet.

  At Tom’s signal, Andy initiated the prepared data feed and brought it up onto all of the TOC’s monitors. The recording started with Tom recounting Colonel Lessem’s orders and Tom's refusal to go along, and was followed by Cinqueda's record of Furlann’s story. With Furlann accusing him from all sides, Trahn remained unmoved.

  “False accusations and a doctored tape of Captain Furlann.” Trahn said. He helped the bound Furlann regain her feet.

  “We can show otherwise.” Tom told him.

  Trahn shrugged. “Coerced lies, then. Look at the way you’ve brought Captain Furlann here. I’m sure she’ll have a tale to tell when you’re all hauled before a court martial.”

  “Some of us are civvies, General.” Markowitz said. “Criminal court will do for you. Treason is still a capital crime.”

  “Funny you should mention treason.” Markowitz said. “Hey, kid, you get the hookup with the nets yet?”

  “Open and pumping.” Andy replied.

  “Make sure you give them all the files. Let’s let everyone see how the good general here engineered the riots for his own self-aggrandizement.” Markowitz returned his attention to Trahn. “You threatened us with a trial, and that may yet come to pass; but you, General, are being tried now. By the public you’ve so recklessly endangered. This sorry scene is going out, along with all the data we’ve got, on a dump feed to the media and to MilNet.”

  “It’s true, General.” Furlann said. “Rocquette’s got the goods on you.” She took a step away from the general, as if to dissociate herself from him.

  He ignored her, spearing Tom with his eyes. “You don’t understand, do you? Don’t bother to answer. It’ll only be more lies. I’d ask you why, but there’s no point. I can only assume that your heart is as warped as your father’s body. You’re just like him—no true soldier. You’re just another symptom of the disease rotting our country from within.”

  “The only disease is in your mind.” Tom said, sorry to believe that it was true.

  “You’re wrong, Rocquette. Very wrong. And what you’re doing here is wrong. It will cost you dearly. The price for treason is high, and I’m going to see that you pay it in full.” This wasn’t going as Tom had expected. Trahn was acting as though he were still in control.

  “Tom?”

  Andy’s voice shook with uncertainty. Fearful of some unforeseen complication, Tom asked, “What is it?”

  “There’s a scra
mbled call coming in. It’s Air Force One.”

  “Put it on monitor one.” Trahn ordered.

  The big screen switched from the outflow they’d arranged to a head-and-shoulders shot of a very distressed President Steele. Trahn drew himself to attention and faced the monitor. “What’s going on, General? We’re getting some very disturbing transmissions from your headquarters. The nets are buzzing.”

  “There’s no need to be concerned, Mr. President.”

  Steele opened and shut his mouth, apparently aborting a planned remark. His eyes widened. “No need? You keep talking like that and I’ll be sure you are insane, as half the media hacks are already calling you.”

  “We’re experiencing another attack by the Confed disinformation deckers.” Trahn said. “It’s being dealt with.” Tom had to wonder if the general believed what he was telling the President. Trahn sounded as though he believed it.

  “General, we're talking about transmissions coming from your own headquarters. Security has been compromised. This does not look good, and I need answers for the questions I’m being asked. You’re putting me in an awkward position, to say the least.”

  “As I said, Mr. President, the matter is being dealt with. For the moment, I need your support. The country needs your support. We need to continue with our program.”

  To Tom, the President looked distinctly uncomfortable. “A lot of people are telling me you are the problem, General.”

  “They don’t understand the situation, Mr. President.”

  “Hell, Trahn! I’m not sure I understand the situation any more. This isn’t working out the way you said it would.”

  “You must have faith, Mr. President.”

  Tom edged over to Andy’s seat. “Is this going out too?”

  “Every word.”

  “Does the President know?”

  “I don’t see how he wouldn't.”

  That put a different light on things. An awful lot of what Steel was saying sounded like butt-covering. Trahn was not as solidly backed as he might like to think.

  President Steele squared his shoulders. “We’ve been blunt in the past. General, so I’m going to be blunt now. General Trahn, are you a traitor?”

  “No, sir!” Trahn's voice rang with conviction.

  What definition was Trahn using?

  “And you didn’t do what these people are claiming?” Steele asked.

  Trahn sighed. “Can't you see what’s going on?”

  “Make me see, General.” Steele said. “The seat is getting very warm beneath my butt.”

  “We’re doing what needs to be done.” Trahn began. He launched into an impassioned speech justifying what he’d done. Along the way, he admitted to just about everything

  Tom and the runners had uncovered about the plan to use the Comp Army riot as a pretext to draw attention to the Army’s “plight.” According to Trahn, it was all for a good and necessary cause. The sacrifice was justified, to make the UCAS strong. “This is all about making you, and everyone, see the truth that needs to be seen, so that this country can return to the greatness we once knew.”

  “I’ve heard enough.” the President said, stony-faced. “As Commander-in-Chief, I am ordering the immediate cessation of military operations in the Federal District. All military units will stand down, and all officers will report to their bases, pending a full investigation of this matter. The slaughter will stop.”

  As the President gave his orders, Trahn grew very still. “It’s out on MilNet.” Andy crowed. “Along with Trahn’s dismissal. Southeast Military District is now under the command of General Ravierez.”

  “I hope for your sake that your name will be cleared, General. But I must do what I must. I’m sure you understand that.” Steele said. The Presidential channel went dark. They’d done it. Tom felt a little stunned.

  Trahn’s expression was hard. In a barely audible voice, he said, “Now we see the real traitor.”

  Trahn spun, shouldering Furlann into the van interior as he slapped at the ramp control. The hydraulics whined as the pair disappeared into the van’s cabin. Someone fired his weapon at the fleeing general, the shells spanging off the armored door as it slammed shut. Embarrassed, Tom realized he was the shooter. He lowered his weapon.

  What did it matter? Trahn wasn’t going anywhere. The TOC van didn’t have a connector between the cabin and the driver’s position, and there wasn’t a driver anyway; Tom had made sure of that. Trahn wasn’t going anywhere. Sooner or later he’d have to come out.

  “All right, show’s over. It’s mop-up from here.” Tom said. “Cut the media access.”

  But some of Trahn’s officers still looked surly. Tom whispered to Hanley to watch them with special care. Then he turned his attention to making sure the TOC was receiving confirmations of the stand-down order from all units. “Trahn’s accessing the commo channels.” Andy said. “Show me.” Tom ordered. It was not an unexpected move. Andy’s fingers flew across the console. “Green screen is the commands he’s giving. Blue screen is the feed from his transmitter. The yellow screen will detail whatever channels and accesses he tries to use.”

  Tom watched lines of computer code march by as Trahn identified himself to the TOC computer. When it accepted him, his face appeared on the blue-edged screen. Was he trying to send a call for help?

  “Open MilNet access.” Trahn’s voice was calm again. “This is Trahn. Execute Plan Rational. Repeat, execute Plan Rational. Confirmation code follows.”

  Tom opened the direct line to the van. “What is Plan Rational, General?”

  Trahn’s face disappeared from the monitor; he’d sent his message and cut the connection. His voice continued over the direct-line speaker.

  “The name is self-explanatory. Those of us who understand the insanity into which our country has slipped have put together a program to bring us back to the right course, the rational course.”

  “A military junta?” It seemed to Tom that his grandfather had been right about secret cabals within the military.

  “I’m sure some of the media’s left-coast refugees will call it that. I won’t deny that our core of concerned people was built within the military, but our coalition is not limited to those in current service, nor even those who’ve spent time in uniform. We have a broad base of support among those unwilling to be led like sheep to the slaughtering pens.”

  “A rose by anther name.” Markowitz said. “It sounds un-American to me.”

  “This country’s first president was a general.” Trahn responded. “Its greatest presidents have all been military men or civilians wise enough to listen to military men. Having served is no bar to understanding the greater politics that drive the nation; rather, it is a distinct advantage. I hardly need point out that the citizen soldier is one of this country’s proudest traditions.”

  “Your take on that is as warped as your views on other things.” Markowitz said. “Your coup doesn’t have a prayer.”

  “Already, trustworthy men are moving.” Trahn said confidently. “The president has obliged us by being so accessible. By now his plane has been shot down, and there will be no survivors. Given the current problems, I’m sure the perpetrators were assassins from the Confederated States. A very imprudent move on their part. We could go to war over it. I will be telling them that shortly.”

  “So that means you will be taking over the government?” Tom asked.

  “Only temporarily. This is a democracy. I’m sure the public will select a good man when the choices are made clear.”

  “And I’m sure you’re not going to get the chance.” Tom turned to Andy. “Patch my mike onto the secure channel and put the link onto his monitor.”

  When the channel opened, Tom addressed the worried man on the screen. “Mr. President, you were listening to the feed?”

  “Major Rocquette, I was. It appears that whatever the truth of your earlier allegations, your precipitous action was justified. You’ve done your country a service today. I’m afraid th
e immediate reward is something of a burden, though. I would like you to take charge of the command center until General Ravierez arrives. Hold General Trahn in custody until then. If you can arrange for any of his confederates to be taken into custody, do so.” Steele cleared his throat. “And, Major ...”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “You have my personal thanks. It’s good to know there are still loyal men like yourself in this country.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Tom said politely. He hadn’t done this for Steele.

  When the conversation with the President was over, Tom told Trahn, “As you can see, the president remains alive. You’ve revealed your plot and gotten nowhere. Your confederates outside the TOC heard nothing, nada, not a word.”

  “I am controlling transmissions.” Andy added archly. “No transmissions go out of this place without my say-so. That includes your access, General. You really should have read the responses from your access attempts; you would have seen that you weren’t going anywhere.”

  “You’re isolated and exposed, General. It’s all over.” Tom said, glad that it was.

  “You're all fools if you think this will end it!” Trahn shouted. “I—”

  The connection cut in a burst of static. Tom’s eyes went to the general’s van. Something had happened in there.

  No one spoke; the consoles hummed to themselves in the hush that had come over the center. The message board beeped steadily, asking for attention to the calls lighting up its board.

  The soft click of the ramp release sounded abnormally loud. The ramp of the general’s van swung down, hitting ground with a crash. The rush of air displaced by the ramp’s fall carried with it the stench of burnt plastic and the sweet odor of cooked pork. Chafing her wrists, Furlann strolled down the ramp.

  “What the frag did you do?” Tom asked, appalled. He had a very good idea of the answer. Trahn was likely the only connection to tie her with the plot.

  “You heard him.” Furlann said. “His own words condemned him as a traitor, according to the laws of the land. Death is the reward for treason in time of war. Anyway, it was him or me.”