Star Marine!

by John Bowers

  Scarlett shifted in her sleep, turning onto her left side. Huggins cleared his throat, and she opened her eyes slowly. She focused with difficulty, then pulled herself to a sitting position, frowning in distress. Her hand went briefly to her hair, and she blushed as scarlet as her name.

  "I declare!" she whispered in a soft Texiana accent. "I must look a fright." She stared at him with wide eyes, obviously intimidated by his black uniform.

  "You look just fine," Huggins said, feeling uncharacteristically tender. "How d'you feel?"

  "I — I don't know," she said. "Better, I guess. I mean, I don't really feel sick. Who — who are you?" Her eyes narrowed just slightly. "I do believe you look familiar."

  Huggins grinned, his beefy face bending to the effort with difficulty.

  "I didn't know if you'd remember me," he said. "It's been a few years. My name is Huggins."

  The green eyes sprang wide, and she clapped a hand to her mouth.

  "Major Huggins! My stars! What are you doin' on Altair?"

  Huggins grinned with relief. She did remember him! Except she hadn't noticed his new insignia; the last time they met he'd been a major.

  "The question, Miss Scarlett, is what in the blazes are you doin' here? And where is your daddy? We haven't seen hide nor hair of either of you in over five years!"

  Scarlett gazed at him for just a moment, as if his words were in another language. Unexpectedly, she began to sob, bending her head and biting her fist. Huggins leaned forward in alarm, out of his element.

  "Miss Scarlett … ?"

  She shook her head and held up a hand. A moment later she regained control, but when she spoke had difficulty getting the words out.

  "I'm sorry, Major! Forgive me."

  "Miss Scarlett … "

  "They killed my daddy!" she blurted, bursting into fresh sobs. "They — they … murdered him! Right — right in front of me!"

  Huggins felt his blood turn cold, and was filled with unreasoning rage.

  "Who did, Miss Scarlett? Who killed your daddy?"

  She shook her head.

  "I-I d-don't know. Rebels, I think. They — they never did say w-who they were!"

  "Bastards!" he muttered. He reached out and laid a heavy hand on her slender shoulder. "Here, now, you lay back. Just rest. You've been through somethin' awful. You don't need to talk about it just yet."

  Still sobbing, Scarlett leaned back and rested her head on the pillow. She sniffed repeatedly and wiped at her eyes with both hands.

  "I'm sorry, Major. I'm bawlin' like a little kid!"

  "Don't you worry about it. Just rest now. I'll come back and see you this afternoon."

  He stood up slowly, reluctant to leave her in this condition. He briefly considered asking the doctor to give her a sedative. Before he could move, she looked up at him with tear-stained green eyes.

  "Major Huggins … I want to go home."

  "You will, Miss Scarlett. I promise you. Just as soon as I can arrange it." He patted her shoulder again. "Now you jist rest. We'll talk some more later."

  She bit her lip, then managed a smile in spite of the tears.

  "Thank you, Major."

  "Don't you mention it. Your daddy was a dear friend of mine. I'll take good care of you."

  She blinked away the tears and nodded, forcing another smile. He turned for the door. Just before he reached it, she called to him.

  "Major," she said, "do you still have that old hound dog? The one that climbs trees?"

  He blinked at her in amazement.

  "I'd sure like to see him do that sometime," she added.

  "I still have him," Huggins replied. "But he's twelve years old now. Hasn't climbed a tree since he was ten."

  She nodded resignedly.

  "You behave yourself now. I'll be back in a few hours."

  Huggins left the room, his heart singing. L.D. was dead, sure enough, but his daughter had somehow survived. It would be big news back home. He couldn't wait to get back to the office and compose a subspace message for Sirius.

  Scarlett Wallace was alive after all these years.

  Chapter 21

  Sunday, 14 September, 0228 (PCC) – New Mecca, Altair 4

  Col. Huggins smiled with genuine pleasure as Scarlett Wallace came into his office. "Glided" would be a better word — she had fully recovered from her physical weakness and, dressed more appropriately in a full skirt, once more resembled the Sirian belle he remembered. Someone at the hospital had brushed and fluffed her thick red hair, and she'd added a few cosmetics to hide the circles that hadn't completely faded from her eyes. She smiled at him, but though she appeared physically fit, he could tell she still bore some emotional scars. He wasn't surprised.

  "Please, Miss Scarlett, won't you sit down? It's such a pleasure to see you again."

  "Thank you, Major —" She caught herself as she noticed the pin on his collar. "Oh, my stars! You're a colonel now! I-I'm sorry, I didn't realize … "

  "Don't be silly." He held a chair for her. "How could you be expected to know? Would you like somethin' cool to drink?"

  "Do you have any fruit juice?"

  "Of course." He rang for an aide, placed the order, then sat down opposite her, crossing his legs for comfort. "You appear to have mended well. How do you feel?"

  Scarlett met his eyes briefly, then lowered them demurely. She looked a little depressed.

  "Physically, I feel fine," she said. "Your hospital staff was most gracious. In my heart, however, I feel rather … empty."

  Huggins nodded slowly, feeling sad.

  "I'm sure that is to be expected. You've been through somethin' of an ordeal. Those kinds of injuries take time. I am confident you will recover from them eventually."

  She sighed wearily. "I certainly hope so."

  The fruit drink arrived and Scarlett sipped it. Huggins filled and lit a pipe, then sat sucking it gently, giving her time to feel at ease.

  "I notified my superiors at home," he told her then. "The news of your survival stirred quite a lot of excitement. Transportation has been arranged to get you back to Sirius as quickly as possible. You will be leavin' tomorrow, if that is satisfactory."

  "Oh, yes!" she breathed. "I cain't wait to get off this awful planet!"

  "I imagine so. I hope you won't mind, but the first available ship headin' back is a commercial ship. It will be heavily escorted, of course, so you won't have to fear the Feddies." He paused, then added, "It's a slave ship. Will that distress you at all?"

  She looked a little startled, but then shrugged acceptance.

  "I suppose it don't matter. As long as I don't have to associate with the wretched creatures."

  "Absolutely not. You will have a private cabin, and I am sendin' an SE officer as personal escort. He will deliver you safely to SE headquarters in New Birmin'ham."

  She smiled wanly. "That is very kind of you."

  Huggins stared at his pipe for a minute, unhappy about his next question.

  "Miss Scarlett … " He looked up to find her gazing at him. "I hate like blazes to ask you this, but — my superiors have insisted that I ask a few questions about your ordeal. Do you … feel up to it?"

  She blinked rapidly, then nodded slowly.

  "I suppose I must talk about it eventually," she whispered.

  "Yes, unfortunately. Your daddy was a respected member of the General Plannin' Staff, and the Army wants to know what happened to him. You understand."

  "Of course."

  "Can you tell me what did happen? You indicated that he was murdered. And that you were present when it happened?"

  Scarlett stared at the chilled glass in her hand. The fruit drink was colorful and exotic. But her mind had drifted back some five years, and her pale brow creased with pain. Tears glittered in her eyes.

  "Daddy had met with a transportation company that mornin', in Al Shia. I am not sure what they were talkin' about; he never discussed the details of his business. But I had overheard him talkin' to Jimmy that mornin' a
bout unrest among the local laborers. It was apparently affectin' the shippin' schedules, and that was costin' him money."

  Huggins nodded. The Muslims had been split into opposing religious factions for over a century, and had waged several minor wars among themselves. The outbreak of war with the Federation had given the pro-Sirius faction an opportunity to align themselves with far more power than had ever been available before, with the result that the schisms between factions had widened even more. Pro-Federation factions had begun to align themselves to resist that growing power, and L.D. Wallace had arrived on Altair just as it was all coming to a boil.

  "While Daddy was in his meetin', he told Jimmy to take me out shoppin', and we spent the mornin' in the city. We met Daddy at an open air market for a late lunch." She fell silent for a moment, struggling to contain her emotions. Huggins waited patiently.

  "It was while we were havin' lunch," she said. "Daddy was in a good mood, because his meetin' had gone well. There was an explosion down the street, a bomb of some kind. I like to died with fright, and Jimmy jumped up and said we had to git out of there. I didn't know which way to run, but Jimmy took my hand and started to pull me inside the rest'rant. Daddy was right behind us. He had a pistol in his hand — he was always armed, you know — and when we got inside he started to call for the Infantry Police to come and get us."

  She shook her head, sobbing in spite of herself.

  "It was all so confusin', everything happenin' at once! Si-reens outside, people runnin' and screamin'. I heard shots and automatic weapons. And then — and then … "

  Huggins leaned forward gently.

  "Have another sip of fruit juice, Miss Scarlett. Take your time."

  She wept silently for a moment, shaking in her chair. When she was able, she sipped the juice, wiped at her eyes, and continued.

  "It must have all been planned," she said in a calmer voice. "There was people in the rest'rant, and they just sat there, like this was normal. I should have realized, with everybody outside goin' crazy, these people weren't actin' right." She shook her head. "Before Daddy could place the call on his portable vidphone, six men stood up from the tables and pulled out guns. They shouted somethin', and it all happened so fast after that … Jimmy threw me to the floor, and then they started shootin'. Daddy got off one shot, but I don't think he hit anybody. They killed Daddy and Jimmy both right there. Shot them down like mad dogs."

  She broke down again, sobbing with the horror of it. This time, Huggins waited until she quieted on her own. It took several minutes.

  "Miss Scarlett, I am very sorry. Are you all right?"

  She nodded, though she clearly wasn't.

  "I must ask you for more details. Are you able?"

  She nodded again. "Yes."

  "I am not familiar with Jimmy. Who was he?"

  "Jimmy Hale. He worked for Daddy on the plantation. Daddy took him along as my escort, so I would not be alone while he was conductin' business."

  "I see."

  Scarlett saw the wrinkle in the colonel's brow.

  "Daddy trusted Jimmy," she explained. "Jimmy was a big man, very strong, and … "

  Huggins leaned forward. "And what?"

  She flushed slightly.

  "He was no threat to me. Daddy said he was … funny."

  "Funny?"

  She nodded. "I reckon Jimmy wasn't interested in girls. You know … that way."

  "Ah!" Huggins sat back, satisfied. Homosexuals in the Confederacy were forced to keep a low profile, but they had their uses. Protecting the flower of Sirian womanhood was an acceptable role for the more rugged of them.

  Huggins returned to topic.

  "These men with guns — were they all Muslims?"

  "I think so. They had those rag things around their heads. They all had dark skin, like serfs. And they spoke with some funny accent."

  "After your daddy and Jimmy were killed, what happened next?"

  "I don't remember exactly, but d'rec'ly they trussed me up with some kind of ropes and put a towsack over my head. I couldn't see nothin' after that, but they put me in some kind of hovercar and took me away. I think I passed out part of the time, but it seemed like we traveled for hours. When we stopped I was taken inside a buildin' and left alone in a room all night. I was still trussed and I couldn't see a thing. I was so frightened!"

  "Miss Scarlett, you don't have to tell me everything about the last five years. But it is important to find out if you know who these people were. Did you ever have any indication?"

  "Rebels." She shook her head. "I don't really know. Most of the time they spoke in some language I never heard before. When they did speak in Standard, I heard them occasionally talkin' about the Sirian 'dogs'. I figured they must be rebels."

  "Do you know any names?"

  "Not of anybody important. I spent most of the time with other women, in a harem. I never did know for sure, but I think I was some kind of slave. There was a man they called Shake. He was about sixty, I guess, and he was rich. He seemed to order ever'body around, and — and he —"

  She sobbed again. Huggins wanted to say something, but couldn't. He was filled with a burning rage. She said the man was called 'Shake', but of course the correct term was 'Sheik'. Huggins knew that local sheiks bought and sold women just as the Sirians did, and for the same purposes. The thought of a Muslim sheik purchasing this precious Sirian belle filled him with a desire for murder.

  "Miss Scarlett." He forced a deep breath. "You don't need to say any more about that. I think I know what he did to you."

  Scarlett's clear emerald eyes lifted to meet his gaze with an expression of pain he would never forget. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

  "He m-made me do un — speakable things!" she wailed. "I wanted to die for the shame of it!"

  "Do you have any idea what his full name is?"

  She shook her head. Convulsions racked her as the sobs emerged from the very center of her body.

  "N-no. Just Shake."

  "How did you get away? Our men found you in a small town in the middle of the night. You were carryin' a laser pistol."

  "Shake wasn't the only man I had to … He had four sons, and they all wanted me, but he never let them have me. But that night, he must have been away. One of his sons came to get me, in the middle of the night while the house was asleep. He took me to another buildin' in the compound, some kind of storage shed. I was afraid of him. He had a laser pistol and after he took off his pants he turned his back just for a minute. I took the pistol off his belt, and … "

  "You killed him?"

  She nodded. "It was awful! I walked for hours after that. I had no idea where I was, or where I could go. A storm was blowin' up, and I thought I was goin' to die. But I just kept walkin', until I saw this little town. I thought maybe I might find some white people."

  "You walked into the arms of the Eleventh Light Armored Brigade," Huggins said.

  "I don't remember much about it," she admitted. "That soldier in the street, he had a rifle pointed at me. I thought he was about to shoot me. After that, I don't remember much. It — it all happened like a cyclone."

  Huggins drew a deep breath, grateful she was finished. He leaned over and patted her knee gently.

  "Miss Scarlett, you don't need to say another word. I believe you have given me sufficient information for my files. When you git home, you may be interviewed again. But I will pass this along so that they will know most of the details. And you can be sure that my people will do everything we can to locate this Sheik fellow. If you killed his son, we should be able to find him easy enough. When we git him, I promise you he will pay for what he did to you. And he will pay dearly."

  She blinked at him, her lip trembling.

  "I don't want to know the details," she said. "Just kill him for me."

  "I assure you, we will do that."

  "Then I'm satisfied."

  Wednesday, 17 September, 0228 (PCC) – Orbit of Pluto, Solar System

  Capt. James Carson
keyed the microphone with his chin.

  "Sadat Control, ResQMed One One requesting position for launch," he said easily. His ship sat on the lift at the edge of the flight tunnel on board UFF Anwar Sadat. The big carrier was cruising roughly two million miles off Pluto, supported by six destroyers and one star cruiser. Four fighter squadrons had launched just minutes earlier, and it was time to get the rescue ships out and into position.

  "ResQMed One One, stand by. Break. Lumberjack, what is your status?"

  Carson's eyebrows lifted a notch. He'd never been asked to wait to position for launch. He exchanged glances with Lt. Ho as they listened to the chatter between the STC and Lumberjack.

  "Lumberjack requesting emergency recovery!" came the excited response. The pilot sounded young, and he was definitely scared. "My cockpit is full of smoke, I don't know where it's coming from!"

  The STC hesitated barely a second before responding.

  "Lumberjack, you are cleared for immediate recovery. All weapons systems are powered off?"

  "That's affirm!" Carson could hear the young pilot gasping.

  "Your approach looks good, Lumberjack. Recovery in eighty seconds. Break. ResQMed One One, maintain position."

  "ResQMed One One, roger," Carson said quickly. He and Ho craned their necks to the right, peering down the quarter-mile tunnel in the direction from which Lumberjack would be coming. If the landing was routine, he would stop two hundred yards short of them. If he didn't stop, they weren't in his way; they were still on the lift that had brought them up from the hangar bay.

  In spite of himself, Carson felt his heart thump a little faster.

  The STC continued talking to Lumberjack as the seconds ticked by, giving him landing information as it became available. The pilot's replies were terse and terrified.

  "Recovery in twenty seconds," the STC said.

  Carson keyed his intercom.

  "This is the captain. They're bringing in a hot fighter, so everybody hang onto something back there."

  He could see the fighter's strobe light now, eleven miles out and coming like hell, just a blue-white flash in the distance.