footnote in Marco Gala’s Halflife: Monument City Between the Wars
“When the Evening News returns,” Rebecca Hollister said from the anchor’s chair, “we continue with our follow-up of some of the year’s major stories.” No sooner did the show go to commercials than the squabbling began all over again.
“I developed that feature and I should be the one to present it!” Katherine Hyson yelled from the side of the set, where she was being gently restrained by two strapping MBS security guards. “It’s mine, Hollister, it’s mine!”
Rebecca looked imploringly at the director. “Phil, you’ve got to get her out of here. Promise her anything, just get her the hell away from me until we wrap. I refuse to have a scene on camera.”
The director was already angling for Hyson. “I’ll take care of everything. You just concentrate on what you’re doing. Remember, tonight’s the key to sweeps week.”
Rebecca vented her exasperation while two men from makeup refreshed her face and hair. “Really, Phil, I don’t even know why you allow her inside the building. Don’t force me to seek a restraining order.”
The director showed the palms of his hands as he closed on Hyson and the guards. “No problem,” he mouthed in a whisper. The assistant director assumed the task of counting the show back on the air.
“In Monument City, the long-awaited trials of Jinas Treng and Theofre Elmikk were postponed indefinitely in response to violent riots by Zentraedi advocacy groups around the world. Chief Justice Justine Huxley has stated that a special war crimes tribunal will be created to handle the trials at some future date. Until then, Treng—accused of detonating the nuclear device that destroyed Oasis—and Elmikk—accused of attempted skyjacking of the SDF-3—remain in custody at an undisclosed location.
“In related stories, both the RDF and the Army of the Southern Cross scored victories in their increasingly competitive struggles not only to rout the Malcontents but to win the confidence and support of the Human and alien public. In India, an RDF Veritech team sank the Russian-made destroyed Biko, which the Lyktauro Malcontents have been using to launch raids on coastal settlements throughout Southeast Asia; while in Eastern Europe, the ASC carried out surgical strikes against rebel bases in the New Marxist Republic, which have been supplying arms to Malcontents in the Southlands.
“In the Argentine, meanwhile, Field Marshal Leonard’s troops have captured the last of the Paranka, also known as the Burrowers, whose Stinger attack on Zagerstown in November 2016 left 271 dead. And in Venezuela, Catherine Wolfe, spokesperson for Governor Carson of Cavern City, reports that the Zentraedi Twenty-third Squadron has dealt a devastating blow to the Shroud and Fist in the Upper Orinoco region.
“But nowhere is the rivalry between the RDF and the ASC more pronounced than in central Mexico, where special forces troops from the two armies have been engaged in the search for a sizing chamber believed to have fallen into Malcontent hands. The Zentraedi have inflicted heavy damages on both sides, and several specialists in alien terror tactics are now beginning to question whether the chamber even exists. Says one unnamed source, The rumor bears the signature of the Scavengers.’
“And it’s expected that later this week the various member city-states of the Southlands will ratify unification and secede from the United Earth Government. Wyatt Moran, who resigned his position in the UEG last month, will be instated as President of the Southlands, with Anatole Leonard serving as both minister of war and commander-in-chief of the armed forces. Moran has promised that he will press the UEG to divert funds from the Expeditionary mission to the rebuilding of forward observation bases on the Moon and Mars. Two outspoken critics of the REF mission, Bishop Nboto and Joanna Ricter-Fields, have already pledged to support Moran’s plan.
“In other news, controversy continues over the efficacy and the ethics of the Lorelei Network. Does the music network have the interests of the Zentraedi in mind, or are its owners engaging in mind control aimed at pacification? Lynn-Minmei, host of the popular call-in show Love Line, was unavailable for comment. But her new singing partner, Janice Em, told MBS News that Minmei plans to continue doing her show while on tour. In an attempt to avert some of the allegations, the Lorelei Network has begun distributing free food to Zentraedi throughout the Southlands.
“In Denver, epidemiologists at the Center for Disease Control have no explanation for the virus that has killed five in Mexico and in outlying areas of the Venezuela Sector.”
Rebecca lifted a thin stack of hardcopy pages, stood them on end, and tapped them on the top of the desk. “When we come back, video transmissions from the edge of the Solar system, where robots are salvaging pieces of ice-bound Macross Island … The Nicaragua Canal nears completion … The timely electronic publication of Kermit Busganglion’s The Hand That’s Dealt You … And the REF releases photos of its latest creations—the Alpha Veritech, the Hovertank, and the gargantuan Ground Mobile Unit—and of its new, and some say ‘sexy,’ uniforms.
“All after these words.”
2018
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
I like Janice, and her range is absolutely astounding, but I feel like she’s being forced on me. I’ve never had a partner because I’ve never wanted one. But the way Emil and Sharky make it sound, the partnership is more about patriotism than show business. “Your voices are the perfect complement to one another,” Emil told me the last time he phoned. “Together, you and Janice will be a force to be reckoned with should there be a second Zentraedi invasion while the SDF-3 is absent.” I don’t know what to do. I’d hoped I’d outgrown being a weapon. I haven’t even asked Janice how she feels about it—she’s such a robot sometimes, the idea of being a machine probably doesn’t bother her in the least. But I guess I’ll have to give it a try. I know I’ll never forgive myself if mere is another invasion and my voice alone fails. So here I go being used again.
from the diaries of Lynn-Minmei
Rick and Lisa had managed to spend Christmas of 2017 together on the satellite, and Lisa made a surprise visit to the surface for the vernal equinox. But they hadn’t seen each other in almost five months when Rick and his adjutant, Vince Grant, traveled up the well in August of 2018 to inspect the GMU and to tour the completed sections of the SDF-3. The years on the factory had turned Lisa hard and lean, and the tight fit of the new REF torso harness enhanced her figure. Rick couldn’t keep his hands off her, and had taken several playful slaps as a result. They were in the factory hold where the 245-foot-long Ground Mobile Unit—also known as the MTA-Titan, for Military All-Terrain Mecha Transport and Assault Vehicle—was under construction when Rick finally got around to posing the question that had been on his mind since leaving Monument City.
“Can we get married right now—while I’m here, I mean? Before another year goes by.”
Lisa seemed stunned, though flattered. “Rick, you know that’s impossible. First of all, who would perform the ceremony?”
“Lisa, you’ve got chaplains from every denomination on-board. We could even get Breetai to perform the ceremony.”
“Is that your idea of a conventional wedding? As admirals, maybe we should perform it ourselves, huh?”
Rick tugged her away from a host of eavesdroppers. “What’s your real reason for saying no?”
“Rick, I want this as much as you do. But I want our wedding to be something special, not just some rushed affair. Besides, we both have so much—”
“Don’t even say it. You were saying it a year ago, and you’ll be saying it a year from now. And that’s exactly why I’m saying we do something for us for a change.”
“Now’s a really bad time, Rick.” She lowered her voice somewhat. “Things haven’t been the same here since the skyjack attempt. Breetai’s been blaming himself for what happened, and he and Jevna Parl have had a falling out over the execution of Elmikk’s troops. And that’s only half the story. I haven’t even seen Emil in weeks.”
“He’s angry about the UE
G’s decision to fund the rebuilding of Sara and ALUCE bases.” The acronym stood for Advanced Lunar Chemical Engineering.
“That decision is going to delay our mission by years.”
“Right, again. But why do we have to delay our mission?”
Lisa almost weakened, but shook her head instead. “A delay is going to mean more work for us, not less.”
“But it’s beginning to feel like we’re slipping apart, Lisa.”
She stroked his arm. “We’re not. We’re getting stronger. It only feels that way because of the time between visits.”
“And I think the separation would be easier to take if we were married.”
“How would it be easier?”
“Because I’d know we’re a team.”
She laughed lightly. “We’re already a team. I love you, and nothing’s going to change that.”
“I love you, too. It’s driving me crazy how much I love you.”
Lisa was about to step into his arms, protocol or not, when Vince Grant approached, obviously uneasy about something. “Sorry to have to interrupt—especially with bad news. But it can’t wait: Max Sterling was shot down in the Congo.”
“Oh, no,” Lisa said weakly.
“He’s okay,” Grant said. “He escaped from the malcontent group that brought him down and was picked up in good shape by a member of the Twenty-third. The Argentine was the closest place where he could be evaluated for radiation-related illnesses, so Reinhardt ordered him brought to what used to be the base hospital.”
“That’s a relief,” Rick said.
But Grant wasn’t finished. “Miriya Sterling is missing,” he announced. “The same day Max went down, she disappeared from Monument.”
Lisa’s eyes widened in concern. “Where’s Dana?”
“She’s fine. She’s with Jean and Bowie right now,” Vince said, referring to his wife and child. He cut his eyes to Rick once more. “Also, there’s been a Stinger attack on a cargo plane en route to Cavern City.”
Rick looked at the floor, then up at Vince. “How many killed?”
“That isn’t known, because the plane hasn’t been found.” He paused. “General Reinhardt requests your presence downside ASAP.”
Purposely silent, Rick looked at Lisa.
She adopted a brave smile. “The hand that’s dealt you, Rick.”
It was his own fault. He had had no business tagging along with the Twenty-third on their assignment to capture whomever remained of Jinas Treng’s Iron Ravens. But he’d wanted a close look at the radioactive ruins of Oasis. And in the end it was the Ravens who had found him.
It should have been obvious that a band that had once possessed a nuclear device might also have ground-to-air missiles. Something capable of knocking a carelessly piloted VT out of the sky. And Max had been nothing if not careless—embarrassingly so. He was lucky he hadn’t died on impact; even luckier that a member of the Twenty-third had been able to home in on Skull One’s locator. But not before Max had gotten to enjoy the hospitality of the five Zentraedi malcontents that had downed him.
Their leader, Chodar, powerfully built and ponytailed, was disappointed that their missile had found a Human-piloted plane; he’d had his heart set on destroying one of the Zentraedi-piloted mecha. But Chodar’s disappointment had changed to delight when he learned that he had captured none other than the ace of the RDF and the husband of the noted hajoca, Miriya Parina. Unaware that Max understood Zentraedi, one of Chodar’s comrades—a bandoliered malcontent named Hossek—had suggested bringing Max to an upcoming meeting of the bands.
Max’s chance for escape had come when they had asked him to sort through the circuitboards and junk they’d ripped from Skull One’s cockpit console. They wanted usable parts—gifts, no doubt, for the Scavengers, who were hosting the meeting. Max had tricked his captors into thinking that Skull One had something extra special; and while the Ravens were busy puzzling over the useless device, Max had grabbed a Zentraedi assault rifle and shot his way out of their vermin-ridden headquarters, killing Hossek in the process.
Outside in the leveled city, he’d killed a second, the bald one named Zekku and then another, using a rock to crush the alien’s skull. And then finally Chodar and the last Raven, bringing a wall down on them by using the overloaded Zentraedi weapon as a bomb. Much later, when he analyzed the bloodlust that had driven him, he would attribute it to the feelings that had welled up inside him on first seeing Oasis from the air and thinking about the 50,000 innocents that had been murdered in an instant. Even so, it had been horrible to find himself in combat once more, back in the business of killing.
Now, here he was in a soft bed in the Argentine, pampered, fussed over, and feeling well enough in body if not in spirit. The view out the window of his private room encompassed part of the airstrip he’d looked across from the veranda of Rolf Emerson’s on-base residence. The doctors had given him a clean bill of health—he had indeed been rad-dosed in Oasis, but not dangerously so—though they were insisting on keeping him under observation for a couple of days. He was for some reason prohibited from making calls, but he assumed that Miriya had been notified of his status.
He would know soon enough, in any case, because Rick had flown down to speak with him personally—Rick, who rarely left Monument other than to visit the factory satellite now and again. Max was certain he was in store for a major reaming-out, first for having gone to the Congo, then for allowing Skull One to get shot out from under him.
A nurse entered the room, smiled, and went to the window to adjust the horizontal blinds. “Captain Sterling, Admiral Hunter is on his way up. Is there anything I can get you before he arrives?”
“How about earplugs,” Max said dourly.
Rick strolled in a few minutes later, looking fit, even distinguished in his REF uniform. His hair was long, and his face bore a few lines. He was starting to look like an admiral. Max had a memory of the young hotshot he had served under on-board the SDF-1. A lifetime ago.
“So you had to see Oasis, huh?” Rick began.
“You know how hungry you get for devastation when you haven’t seen any in a while.”
Rick nodded, narrow-eyed, then snorted a laugh. “How are you feeling, Max?”
“Okay. Amazingly.”
“I heard you spent some time with the Iron Ravens.”
Max nodded and glanced out the window. Two jets belonging to the Army of the Southern Cross were taxiing down the runway. “Did you come all this way to ask after my health and debrief me?”
Rick walked to the foot of the bed and folded his arms across his chest. “Max, Miriya has disappeared. She … borrowed a VF-1D from Fokker. We traced her to the Venezuela Sector, then lost her. It’s obvious she didn’t want to be found, because she disabled the trainer’s locator. We had nothing to go on until we learned that shortly before arriving at Fokker she was visited at your apartment by a woman—a Human—identified as a malcontent operative. A mal gal, as intel puts it.”
Max was dumbfounded. “I’ve been waiting years for the malcontents to show up and try to use her in some way. But this—stealing a VT—” He cut himself off in naked alarm. “Where’s Dana, Rick?”
“She’s fine. She’s with the Grants. Also, Rolf Emerson wants you to know that he’s at your disposal if you need help with Dana or anything.”
“When will I be able to talk to her?”
“Whenever you want. We just didn’t want you upset while you were recuperating.”
Miriya, gone, Max told himself again and again, unable to fathom it. “Get me out of here, Rick. I have to find her.”
Rick walked from the bed to the window, then turned around. “Hear me out before you say anything. I understand your wanting to find her. But it might be better to let Obstat’s intelligence people handle this.”
“Why, Rick?”
“Because of Anatole Leonard. And Wyatt Moran. We’ve been trying to keep the story contained, but Moran’s threatening to give it to the press un
less we agree to issue an order for Miriya’s apprehension.”
“On what grounds?”
“Sedition.”
“That’s crazy. Miriya’s not a malcontent.”
“You and I know that, but Moran has a way of getting people to take his view, and, between you and me, Max, the RDF doesn’t have the veto power it once had. Moran was quick to remind everyone of where you and Miriya stood on the Brasilia riot.”
“For all the goddamned good it did,” Max said.
“The point is that Leonard has hated you both since you blew the whistle on him, and it’s no safer for you to be nosing around in the Southlands than it is for Miriya to be. The RDF has no jurisdiction south of Venezuela. Even my coming here had to be cleared with the Army of the Southern Cross.”
Max stared at Rick. “Listen to what you’re telling me! Miriya’s in jeopardy down here, so I should go home and let intelligence handle it?”
Rick made his lips a thin line. “Officially, that’s what I’m telling you. Because I can’t afford to demonstrate any favoritism and risk giving Moran more support in the UEG.”
“How did this happen, Rick? How the hell did we let things come to this?”
“We made mistakes.”
“So what’s your ‘unofficial’ advice?”
Rick sat down on the bed. “Two days ago, a cargo plane en route to Cavern City was raided by Stingers and skyjacked.”
“For parts?”
“Unlikely. The plane was carrying food, mostly. I know it’s a stretch, but maybe there’s a connection between the skyjacking and Miriya’s disappearance. Anyway, we’ve assigned Wolfe to head the retrieval operation.”
“He’s still in Cavern City?”
“Command offered him a promotion and transfer back to Albuquerque, but he declined.”
“Guts-and-glory Wolfe.”
“Should I tell him I’ve assigned you temporary duty to his Pack?”
Max grinned. “But, uh, I’m going to need a commercial ticket to get there.”
The Zentraedi Rebellion Page 29