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Stars & Empire: 10 Galactic Tales

Page 92

by Jay Allan


  “Sneaky,” Edward said, dryly. “What’s on Avalon that makes it so important?”

  “It’s not on Avalon,” Kitty countered. “It’s the cloudscoop. If the system was to be … lost, the cloudscoop might fall into pirate hands, allowing them to become more aggressive. If it fell into Secessionist hands, the results might be far less pleasing.” She snorted. “And, Captain, this world is within six months of falling into enemy hands.”

  Edward jerked upright. “Hellfire,” he said, sharply. “Are you sure?”

  “I’ve been on this godforsaken planet for the last ten years,” Kitty snapped. “Of course I’m sure!”

  “Six months,” Edward repeated. He looked up at a frayed map hanging on the wall. “What the hell is going on here?”

  Kitty assumed a pose Edward recognised, the pose of an intelligence officer on the verge of impacting information to the ignorant—everyone else. “Just under a hundred years ago, there was a brutal rebellion on this planet, which the Imperial Navy terminated by striking from orbit,” she said. “The original rebellion was broken, but seeds of a new movement survived and prospered. The first two Governors didn’t help…”

  She took a breath. “The first Governor put heavy restrictions on the planet’s inhabitants,” she explained. “He tried to ban guns, issue ID cards … everything seemingly calculated to annoy people who might otherwise have been loyal. The local wildlife wouldn’t be impressed by unarmed humans; the farmers didn’t dare disarm, not when their children could be attacked and eaten by one of the local monstrosities. There was no second rebellion, but there was a great deal of discontent, passive resistance, and brief outbursts of violence. Eventually, some kindly soul put a bullet through his head and he was killed.

  “The second Governor wasn’t much better,” she continued. “He relaxed the restrictions, but he firmly believed that the only way to heal the planet would be to allow the inhabitants to have some say in their future, so he created the planetary council. On paper, it was an excellent idea, but in practice it was a dreadful error. By law, the only people who could vote in elections were people who had paid off their debts, and barely ten percent of the planet’s population—if that—could legally vote. The results weren’t pleasant. The Council is effectively dominated by interests who don’t want to extend the franchise, cancel debts, make vast new investments … or anything else that might actually help fix the world’s problems. Worse, seeing the Council has been legally formed, the third Governor cannot simply dissolve it. He has to listen to them.”

  “Fuck,” Edward said, mildly. He’d seen screwed up planets before, but this was something new. “And the rebels are trying to tear all of this down?”

  “Yes,” Kitty said. She paused for a moment to gather her thoughts. “One group is effectively bandits, without any political agenda. They’re largely composed of escaped indents who have nowhere else to go. They’re responsible for some of the worst attacks, but have absolutely no hope of surviving if the Civil Guard had the firepower and numbers to go after them. They have no support whatsoever from the locals unless they take it at gunpoint. A few hours before you arrived, one of their groups attacked a township, wiped out the men and took the women as slaves. Or worse.

  “The other two groups are both descended from the original Cracker movement,” she said. “They want to get rid of the planetary government, scrap all debt and establish a new representative government. They differ in their aims slightly. One group basically wants autonomy within the Empire; the other wants complete independence. They may have links to outside forces.”

  “The Secessionists,” Edward said. “Or it could be pirates.”

  “Could be,” Kitty agreed. “I have no proof either way. This planet’s satellite network is barely functional and no one has bothered to put aside the funds to repair it.”

  She shook her head, sending ripples running down her red hair. “You’ll get a fully military briefing from the Major, no doubt, but the short version of it is that the government is losing control over the outer settlements and may well be on the verge of losing complete control. There is almost no support whatsoever for the government outside of the main cities, because the government is seen as the enemy, the tool of the debt sharks who keep the locals in debt. The Crackers don’t have to intimidate the population, Captain; they have more friends and allies than they could possibly require. I suspect that their aim is to force the Civil Guard to come out and fight on even terms, whereupon they will crush it and march on Camelot.”

  Edward considered it. “Do they have heavy weapons?”

  “Not very many,” Kitty said. “A few weapons disappeared from Civil Guard storage depots and more may be coming in from off-planet, but mostly they have only what they can produce for themselves. Unfortunately, they are quite ingenious. Their industrialists show far more energy and application than the government’s show, which isn’t entirely surprising. The Council has the whole system tied up, preventing any honest competition. The whole planet, Captain, is the Empire in microcosm.”

  Edward let that pass. “Tell me about the Council,” he said. “Who and what are they?”

  “You’ll meet them all later,” Kitty assured him. “The Governor was already talking about a formal ball to welcome you and your men to Avalon.” She shrugged, expressively. “There are twenty-one councillors in all, each one representing a specific district, at least in theory. Seven of them basically bought thousands of miles of land from the ADC when it was trying to sell off its assets. Seven more own ninety percent of the planet’s industry between them. Two of them—the Wilhelm Family—are debt sharks. They bought the debt contracts of thousands of people and used it as leverage to turn them into serfs. Markus and Carola Wilhelm have a fair claim to being the most hated couple on the planet. The remaining five were elected by the middle class, insofar as this planet has a middle class. They’re reasonably honest, but they’re not above taking bribes if they’re offered.

  “The Council’s exact position related to the Governor isn’t clear. The Governor is the Empire-appointed Head of State and Government, but the Council can interfere with his programs if they don’t like them. Governor Roeder isn’t a bad man—he’s certainly not as bad as either of the last two Governors—yet he doesn’t have the strength of will to go up against the massed opposition of the Council. He controls the Civil Guard, at least on paper, but many of the Guard’s senior officers were appointed by the Councillors. The possibility of a civil war within the Guard’s ranks cannot be completely discounted. Major Grosskopf is a good man, but only five hundred of the Guardsmen can be ranked as good soldiers. The remainder go from average down to bad. He wanted to go after the bandit gang that hit the township, but the Guard is simply not equipped or trained to take on the bandits, let alone the rebel Crackers.”

  She gave him a charming smile. “Sorry you came yet?”

  Edward smiled back. It would require some investigation, but he was already beginning to see possibilities in the situation. And, besides, his orders from the Commandant had been delightfully vague. The Grand Old Man of the Corps might not know everything about Avalon, but he’d granted Edward vast latitude to act as he saw fit. Perhaps the planet could be saved after all.

  “Not yet,” he said, with a wink. One more question had to be asked. “Where do the indents fit into all of this?”

  “They’re right at the bottom of the social scale,” Kitty said, coldly. “They’re criminals, sentenced to spending at least ten to twenty years working as slave labour before being freed and granted a small patch of land. Most of them should never have been sent here. Others complete their sentences, only to discover that they’re still at the bottom of the social scale. They don’t get their land; they’re lucky not to be lynched on sight. They gravitate to the shanty towns surrounding Camelot and just … stay there. They don’t have any hope at all. If the Crackers took over, they’d all be killed out of hand. They kill indent gangs on sight.”

  Pe
rfect, Edward thought, calmly.

  “Above them are the indebted, the ones who will never pay off their debt,” Kitty added. “And then we have ones who might succeed, if the screws don’t get tightened any further. And then we have the ones who are free, yet burdened by taxes intended to help pay off the planet’s overall debt. The whole planet is a mess. It is no wonder, Captain, that the Crackers are being so successful. Why should anyone outside the upper crust—and the indent gangs—try to resist them?”

  She stood up. “My orders from my superiors are to make myself of use to you, Captain,” she concluded. Edward smiled inwardly at how much pride she—and her superiors—had had to swallow to issue such orders, let alone follow them. “What are your orders?”

  Edward considered the matter. “I want you to prepare a briefing for my senior officers and NCOs,” he said. The briefing would be recorded and shown to the enlisted men as well. “And then I want you to sit down with some of my people and start going over maps and planning operations. I don’t intend to sit on my ass at Castle Rock doing nothing.”

  Kitty stared at him. “Captain,” she said slowly, “how do you intend to send a hundred Marines against an enemy you can’t even track?”

  “You might be surprised,” Edward said, seriously. An idea was already forming in his mind. He’d have to study the maps before he came up with a final plan, but he was fairly sure it world work. “I think the bandit gang that hit the township would make a suitable first target for our wrath, don’t you?”

  CHAPTER 15

  There are two vital elements of any colonisation project that must succeed if the world is to develop properly; the farming, to provide food, and the industry. If those two elements fail, the colony world will either stagnate or collapse. It should be evident that it is vitally important to encourage those elements at all costs, yet far too many planets are concentrating merely on the short-term and neglecting the long-term health of their colony.

  - Professor Leo Caesius, The Waning Years of Empire (banned).

  Leo stepped out of the shuttle and took a deep breath. The smell struck him at once. There was a hint of jet fuel and the ionisation caused by shuttle drives, but all of that was minor compared to the fresh wind blowing across the landing strip. Earth’s atmosphere had stunk … and he hadn’t even been aware of it until he’d set foot on a starship. The pollution had been terrible. He knew, from his own private studies, that it caused massive death rates among the Undercity dwellers, but there were always more where they came from. The stink of hydrocarbons and far too many human beings pressed together had ever-present. He had just never been aware of it until he’d smelled cleaner air.

  He turned slowly, stepping away from the shuttle, and caught sight of the mountains in the distance. They were like nothing he had ever seen before. They seemed to reach up endlessly into the clouds, dominating the surrounding countryside for miles around, with green flecks of trees and grass covering their lower levels. He’d seen pictures of Earth’s mountain ranges, of course, but he’d never been able to afford a family holiday to the few remaining preserved areas of Earth. That had been the playground of the rich and famous.

  “Dad,” Mandy said. It was almost a whine. “Help me down, please.”

  Leo turned and held out a hand to his daughter. She was shaking, overwhelmed by her new surroundings, for she had definitely never set foot outside her home city on Earth. Avalon was vast and unspoilt by the human race, a paradise for the tired and weary, yet Mandy seemed daunted by the sight. The young were supposed to be more adaptable than the old, or so he had learned in his studies, but Mandy looked doubtful. Mindy didn’t seem to have so many doubts. She ran down the shuttle’s ramp and down onto the ground, staring around in awe.

  “It’s so green,” she said. “Daddy … what is that?”

  Leo followed her pointing finger and saw a strange animal moving around the edge of the spaceport’s new fence. A chill ran down his spine as it sank in that he was truly on an alien world. The animal looked like a weird combination of a dog, a horse and a donkey. It gave them a disdainful glance with fish-like eyes and wandered off, grazing as it moved. He wondered, absently, what it was called or if anyone had bothered to try to tame it and its kin. Was it even good eating?

  “So,” Fiona said. “This is Avalon.”

  The scorn in her voice made him wince. “Yes,” he said, silently wishing that she would shut up long enough for him to work out what to do next. They had to go into Camelot and find somewhere to live, and then start seeing about jobs. He’d checked Avalon’s local net—such as it was—and found no mention of a university. The schools seemed to be mainly technical schools, designed to turn out the next generation of industrial workers. “Welcome to our new home.”

  Fiona snorted again, but mercifully kept her peace. She’d been complaining all the time since the shuttle had undocked from the massive transport, demanding that the pilot take it easy as they descended down towards the planet. Leo remembered what she’d been like when they had first married and wondered, not for the first time, what had happened to the woman he’d married. It was far too easy to understand. She’d had peace, security and wealth—at least for their class—and his actions had torn it away from her. The whole family had been exiled thousands of light years from the core of the Empire.

  Mandy realised that she was clutching her father’s hand and let go of it, her eyes flickering around the spaceport. Leo watched her with some concern, but she seemed to be recovering; her eyes were following a group of Marines as they unloaded another shuttle. Leo winced inwardly again. Mandy had grown up in a world where she had had no responsibility for her actions and it showed. He had a feeling that life was going to be much more serious on Avalon than it had ever been on Earth. Mindy didn’t seem to have any problems at all. She looked as if she wanted to start running all over the spaceport. Only the possible danger kept her firmly in her place.

  “Welcome to Avalon,” a voice said. Fiona jumped. Leo turned slowly to see Captain Stalker and another Marine standing behind them. He hadn’t even heard them coming up to the shuttle! “What do you make of your new home?”

  “It smells strange,” Mandy said, sullenly. For once, she wasn’t eying the Marine. “I don’t want to be here.”

  Leo gave the Captain a glance, silently willing him to understand. “What a remarkable coincidence,” Captain Stalker said. His voice was exaggeratedly cheerful. “I don’t want to be here either. Orders are orders.”

  “Yes, but that’s different,” Mandy protested. “You have to obey orders and go where they send you. I…”

  Her voice trailed off.

  “I cannot prove this to you, not now, but you are far better off here than in the Undercity back on Earth, or dead,” Captain Stalker said, bluntly. He looked up at Leo. “I understand that you intend to head into Camelot as soon as possible?”

  “Yes,” Leo said. He recognised the brisk businesslike tone. “We can’t presume on your hospitality forever.”

  “True enough,” Captain Stalker agreed. “I have taken the liberty of asking Rifleman Jasmine Yamane to accompany you until you get your bearings. I hope you won’t find her too much of an imposition.”

  Leo, who recognised an order when he heard one, however expressed, nodded slowly. “I’m sure that we won’t,” he said, ignoring Fiona’s angry look. She couldn’t wait to be away from the Marines, if only to keep Mandy out of trouble. Leo silently wished her good luck with that. His daughter seemed determined to sleep with each and every male Marine in the Company. “How do we get into town?”

  “Jasmine has a locally-produced car for your service,” Captain Stalker said. “Let me know how you get on.”

  He nodded briskly to his subordinate and walked away, leaving Jasmine with Leo and his family. “If you’ll come this way,” she said, politely. If she was aware of how both of Leo’s daughters were staring at her, she didn’t show it. “I can drive you into town and help you find lodgings.”

/>   The locally-produced car turned out to be a copy of a design that had been old when the Empire was young, large enough to carry Leo’s entire family in some degree of comfort. It was a new and strange sight to both girls and they stared in awe as Jasmine steered them out of the spaceport and onto the highway leading down towards the sea. None of the family could drive. On Earth, they had been restricted to using either the transport tubes or aircars, and the aircars had been controlled by their onboard processors. Privately-owned vehicles weren’t legally banned, but they were very rare outside the wealthy. The expense was just too much.

  Avalon, on the other hand, seemed to have hundreds of privately-owned vehicles. The closer they got to the city, the more vehicles they saw on the road, ranging from cars to buses and trucks. He saw a van drive past carrying live horses—Mindy stared in astonishment, clearly planning to find out where she could get riding lessons—and another carrying newly-picked fruit. Some people rode animals instead, from horses to creatures that had to be native to Avalon itself. The standard colonisation program, he’d learned while he’d been carrying out his research, always included thousands of young animals, cloned and decanted on the new world. Horses, pigs, sheep and cattle reproduced naturally. It was another measure to prevent the complete collapse of a new colony world. Offhand, he couldn’t recall a colony world, one established after the rise of the Empire, that had actually failed. They were regarded as very solid investments.

  The thought made him study Camelot with a new eye. Parts of the city looked strong and prosperous, other parts looked poor and downcast. He saw men and women who strode purposefully around the city, as if they had places to go, and others who loitered on street corners, without any purpose to their existence. He spotted a line of women who had to be prostitutes, selling themselves for the best that they could get, and a line of men looking for labouring positions. Camelot looked as if it was spending its seed capital, rather than investing in the future. A chill ran down his spine. He had studied how colony worlds could go bad, but seeing it in person was different. The piles of litter in some parts of the city were a very telling sign.

 

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