Forge a New Blade (The Laredo War Book 2)

by Peter Grant

  Khan nodded thoughtfully. “I daresay you’re right, Major.”

  “Thank you, Sir. There’s another thing. I’ve no doubt the rebels could have fought if they’d had to, but they deliberately struck at places, times and targets where they were sure to find few of our troops equipped or ready to resist. They hit them with surprise and overwhelming force, enough to ensure that any attempt to put up a fight would have been tantamount to suicide. They then subdued off-duty personnel using the threat of flitterbugs rather than attacking them with rifles and grenades. In fact, one wonders whether they deliberately bent over backwards to avoid causing casualties to our personnel, Sir – and if so, why?”

  Khan looked at him, startled. “Now that is a very interesting observation, Major.”

  “I wish I could claim credit for it, Sir, but it was suggested by Lieutenant Sangin, one of my assistants.” He gestured to a young officer standing against the wall. “She has some more thoughts about it that may interest you.”

  Mentally the Brigadier-General put a positive check mark against his G-1’s name. Not all officers would willingly share credit with their subordinates like that. The Lieutenant flushed as she realized that everyone was looking at her.

  “What could a wet-behind-the-ears Lieutenant have to contribute to a high-level discussion like this?” the SS Colonel snapped.

  Khan suppressed the urge to blast him for his rudeness. Instead he said mildly, “May I remind you, Colonel, that Her Majesty was also a ‘wet-behind-the-ears Lieutenant’, as you put it, during the Battle of Tapuria? She certainly made an outstanding contribution there. The late Satrap awarded her the Star of Bactria for valor in action, and I had the honor of granting her a battlefield promotion to the rank of Captain immediately afterwards.” He carefully didn’t add aloud, after watching her shoot an SS officer for daring to question the Crown Prince’s authority, and after he’d asked me to promote her. Such details would only confuse the point he was trying to make. “Perhaps I should advise Her Majesty about your opinion of junior officers. I’m sure she – and her husband – would find it interesting. They might even wish to discuss the matter with you.”

  The Colonel’s mouth opened, then hung there as he suddenly realized the trap into which he’d walked. He ultimately managed to say, “I… ah… that won’t be necessary, Sir.” He half-bowed to the Lieutenant. “I apologize, Lieutenant. I spoke thoughtlessly.” His voice was curt, clipped, angry… but cautious.

  “Thank you, Colonel,” Khan answered on her behalf. “Lieutenant, tell us more, please.”

  “Th – thank you, Sir.” She straightened her shoulders. “I believe the rebels may be trying to send us a message, Sir. They could have killed up to a thousand of our troops last night, but they chose not to. In fact, our only fatalities seem likely to have been caused by our own error of judgment at Prison Camp Two. What’s more, the rebels warned their prisoners not to come after them, and to disobey any orders to do so, on pain of death. That made me wonder why, Sir.

  “They’ve got their imprisoned leaders back now, plus enough equipment and supplies to reconstitute two or three battalions. That means both sides are at a stalemate, Sir. We no longer have enough combat troops on this planet to overcome two or three rebel battalions without suffering horrendous losses; but they can’t defeat us without themselves suffering losses on the same scale. In so many words, Sir, I think they’re offering us an armed truce. They’re showing us by example that if we leave them alone, they’ll leave us alone. I think they expect the conflict over this planet to be resolved at the United Planets and by whatever their Government-in-Exile is doing. I think they don’t want to do anything locally that will interfere with external plans and activities.”

  The G-2 nodded vigorously. “Lieutenant, that’s a very interesting theory. I think it may be supported by the discovery earlier this year of communications modules hidden inside the prisoners’ book readers. Clearly, leaders in both camps were able to talk to contacts outside. They were probably informed about at least some interplanetary developments, and probably coordinated last night’s operations with those outside.”

  “How could they?” the SS Colonel asked. “They haven’t had any book readers for the past six months.”

  “There are other ways to communicate, Colonel,” the General reminded him. “They may have signaled with lights, or used semaphore, or smuggled messages in and out in other ways. We’ll probably never know. I agree with Lieutenant-Colonel Oxus. The likelihood of coordination of last night’s attacks is so high as to approach certainty.”

  “But how could they have learned what’s happened off-planet? We’ve deliberately restricted communication, censored news bulletins, and done everything we can to prevent the locals learning of our difficulties at the United Planets and the actions of their Government-in-Exile. I don’t see how the rebel prisoners could have found out about them.”

  “Neither do I, Colonel, but I won’t be at all surprised to find out that they have. We didn’t think they could threaten the Satrap’s parade last year, but they destroyed it and killed him, not to mention wiping out most of our infrastructure in Tapuria. We didn’t think they had nuclear warheads, but they used one to destroy the Space Station – and we still don’t know whether they have any more. Don’t underestimate them. Every time we do, they surprise us. I think we’ll all do well to keep that in mind.” Unanimous nods and very serious expressions on the faces of his Planetary Staff showed that they agreed with him.

  “We’re going to do three things in the short term. First, the Ministry of War and the Satrap must be informed of the latest developments. All of you are to prepare detailed reports covering your areas of responsibility. I want first drafts ready by tomorrow morning. Second, I have an appointment with Mrs. Aldred this afternoon. We’ve been instructed to help her set up a local political party to counterbalance the rebels. I think that under the present circumstances, I’ll ask her to speed up her efforts. If we’re going to have a de facto truce, let’s take advantage of it to pursue non-military options. After all, that’s what the Satrap had in mind when he sent her back here.

  “Finally, I want to examine how we can use a truce, formal or informal, to improve our military position. For example, the rebels have resupplied themselves at our expense for years. What if we pull back our outlying garrisons and concentrate our forces in larger bases closer to Tapuria? The rebels will find it much more difficult to raid them, and they’ll no longer be able to waylay convoys to more distant units. That might cripple them almost as badly as a military defeat.”

  “But that would mean abandoning large areas of the continent to their control,” the SS officer objected.

  “Yes, it would, Colonel; but what would the rebels do with those areas? They aren’t of any particular importance, economically speaking. They aren’t even politically important, because most potential voters live in larger centers that would now also have larger garrisons, making it more difficult for the rebels to disrupt Mrs. Aldred’s plans. Do the advantages of concentrating our forces in fewer centers outweigh the disadvantages? That decision will have to be taken on Bactria. I want to offer the Satrap a range – a list – of options. I want all of you to work together to make that list as comprehensive as possible, then evaluate every option and make recommendations.”

  He turned to Lieutenant Sangin. “Lieutenant, I’m going to send you to Bactria as my personal messenger to deliver our report to the Satrap. I’ll suggest that he listen to your ideas in person. I hope they, and you, will receive the recognition I think they deserve.”

  She blushed scarlet. “Th – thank you, Sir.”

  He rose to his feet, and his Staff stood in automatic response. He strode to the door, then turned around and looked at them. “The war memorial for Bactrian forces and officials on the hillside outside Tapuria has almost twenty-nine thousand gravestones around it. Let’s make sure that we don’t push that total any higher than we absolutely have to. As far as I’m conc
erned, this planet isn’t worth even one more Bactrian life, and I shall so advise the Satrap.”

  There was a deafening silence as they all stared at him.

  ~ ~ ~

  Khan rose from his desk as his aide ushered Gloria Aldred into his office. He walked around the desk to meet her, holding out his hand. “Mrs. Aldred, how nice to see you again.”

  “And you, General Khan.” She returned his grasp firmly. “What’s this I hear about trouble at the prison camp?”

  “Ah… yes, there were some problems last night. Sit down and I’ll tell you about them.”

  Giving as few details as possible, he explained that all the former prisoners-of-war were now at large, and that the Resistance appeared to have been reconstituted and re-equipped. “I don’t know what that’s going to mean for us in the short term, Mrs. Aldred, but I don’t think it can be good. I’m hoping your efforts will help to keep things from deteriorating into open hostilities once more.”

  She nodded vehemently. “I’ll do my very best to help, General, but it’s difficult. I’ve managed to recruit a dozen or so helpers, but none of them are particularly influential in the community. We’ve all had enough of violence and bloodshed, and we all want peace, but we’re very much in a minority among the residents of Laredo. Too many of them remember the invasion and the evil years that followed – just as I’m sure many of your peoples’ attitudes are conditioned by the same memories.”

  “That’s true, I’m afraid. Has the security we’ve provided been adequate?”

  “Well, I’m still alive, if that’s what you mean!” They smiled wryly at each other. “It hasn’t stopped a whispering campaign against all of us, particularly me. I thought my description of how the Resistance tried to kill me would help to open people’s eyes, but I’m afraid it hasn’t. Most of them believe the Resistance’s claim that it had nothing to do with shooting down that cutter, even though it’s a matter of public record. I wanted to ask for your help in answering an argument that was thrown at me at our latest public meeting. A heckler stood up and shouted that if the Resistance had shot down that cutter, there would have been casualties; but he claimed that none had been admitted to hospital that day, and none had been buried as a result of the crash. He said the whole thing was a set-up by State Security. Could we check your records? There must have been at least a list of the names of those involved.”

  “Yes, of course. I’ll take you to our Records section as soon as we’ve finished our other business. They maintain a centralized database of all our records, including those from the spaceport, the hospital and the War Memorial. All three departments should have the information you need to counter such allegations.”

  Ten minutes later they walked down the corridor together. The General showed her into the Records section ahead of him, and led her to the counter where a clerk snapped to attention.

  “Mrs. Aldred is looking for some information,” Khan told him. “Get her what she needs at once, please.”

  “Yessir!”

  “I’ll leave you to it, Mrs. Aldred.”

  “Thank you, General. I’ll put the information to good use in debunking our critics.”

  She explained to the clerk what she needed, and he tapped in a series of queries. He frowned. “Ma’am, are you sure of the date of that crash? We have no injuries or fatalities recorded at all from the spaceport on that day – in fact, not for a week on either side of it.”

  Her face went blank for a moment. “Yes, I’m certain. It must have been in the news, surely?”

  He checked. “Yes, Ma’am, it’s reported that a cutter was shot down on that date, but no deaths or injuries were reported. Let me pull up more information about the crash… that’s odd. The record’s locked, with a notation that it can’t be unsealed without authorization from State Security.”

  Gloria felt a chill run down her spine. Almost desperately she asked, “Is there any record of a platoon sergeant, her husband and their two children being buried anytime within a few weeks after the crash, and perhaps a pilot too?”

  “I’ll check… no, Ma’am. The only funerals reported that month were those of the Commandant of a prison camp, his pilot and two guards who were killed in the crash of an airvan on their way to Tapuria. The other occupant was a prisoner, a rebel Lieutenant-Colonel. His body was buried at the prison camp.”

  She froze, horror roaring through her. “What was the Lieutenant-Colonel’s name? Why was he on the way to Tapuria with the others?”

  The clerk tapped in another query. “He was Lieutenant-Colonel Jake Carson, Ma’am. It seems that State Security called that morning to bring him in for interrogation. According to the camp records, they said he’d been using another name and they’d just found out who he really was. The airvan bringing him here crashed soon after takeoff. Everyone aboard was killed.”

  “I… I see,” she said automatically, blankly. “Th – thank you.”

  “My pleasure, Ma’am. Do you want printouts of these records?”

  “N – no, thank you. That won’t be necessary.”

  She just managed to hold down the bitter bile rising in her throat until she reached the restroom and bolted a stall door behind her; then she vomited endlessly, retching and heaving until she was sure her stomach would follow its contents up her throat and out of her mouth. When the dry heaves subsided at last she slumped down on the toilet seat, wiping her mouth with a handful of paper, weeping bitterly. Three sentences chased each other through her mind in an endless, incessant yammering.

  It really was a State Security setup.

  I betrayed Jake Carson.

  Jake always swore he’d never allow them to use him as a lever against his son.

  She sat for what seemed like a timeless age, listening to the accusatory voices in her head. At last she managed to stand and flush the toilet, then crossed to the basins. She rinsed out her mouth and washed her face with cold water, patting it dry with more toilet tissue.

  As she drove numbly back to her apartment, another line added itself to the three already repeating themselves in her head.

  When Dave finds out… he’s going to kill me.

  Neue Helvetica: February 11 2852 GSC

  Dave scrolled through the last few lines of the report, his head whirling with the pain and sorrow of loss, shock at the latest developments, and a growing sense of excitement.

  Is this it? he wondered. Is this what we’ve been waiting for? It may be… it could just possibly be that Dad’s final orders have precipitated a crisis on Laredo that’s tailor-made for us if – if – we can react in time… but how do we respond? We’re nowhere near ready, but if we don’t seize this opportunity it’ll be a hell of a poor memorial to Dad and a tragedy for Laredo. We’ve got to seize the moment… but how? Is it worth risking everything on a single roll of the dice?

  He thrust back his chair from the desk and began pacing back and forth, mulling over the implications of what he’d just read. The news was totally unexpected. The death of his father had rocked him to the core of his being, particularly coming so soon after learning that against all expectations, he’d survived the Battle of Banka. However, it was no less than he’d have expected of him under the circumstances. Even though he was proud of his courage and self-sacrifice, he couldn’t help weeping for his own loss. I hope Mom and Timmy and Janet were there to meet you, Dad. I hope you gave them a hug for me. If this whole thing doesn’t work, I might be joining you a whole lot sooner than any of us expected… but I hope not. Tamsin and I have started our own family now. I’d like as many years with them as I can get before I see you again.

  He paced far into the night and early into the morning. At three Tamsin put her head around the door of the study. She was bleary-eyed and tousle-haired with sleep. “I woke up and you weren’t in bed,” she complained. “What’s wrong?” Her eyes focused on his face, and suddenly she wasn’t sleepy any more. “You’ve been crying!”

  He took her gently in his arms as she hurried ove
r. “I’m sorry, love. Dad’s dead.”

  Her eyes widened with shock and sorrow. “Oh, no!”

  “He died a hero, just like you’d expect from a man like him. I’ll mourn him properly when I have time. The reason he died is that everything’s breaking loose – and he helped that happen with his final orders.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I enlisted the Dragon Tong’s help on Marano to put one of Manuel’s people aboard the ferry that went to Laredo in December to collect the hulks of the two corvettes we damaged last year. He contacted the Resistance through the back door Mac installed in the satellite network – it’s still operational. He got back to Marano last month, then headed for New Brisbane, where Manuel wrote up his report and sent it aboard the first available express courier. It hit my mail queue yesterday evening. We’re facing a crisis that’s blown up with no warning at all. It might offer us a golden opportunity, or it might cost us everything we’ve been working for. I’ve been trying to figure out how to handle it.”

  She was wide awake now. “Need any help?”

  He hugged her. “From you? Always. I’ll make tea while you read the report, then we’ll talk.”

  “Thanks. You’d better take a stim-tab, too, if you haven’t got any sleep yet. Bring one for me while you’re at it, because from the sound of it I won’t be getting any more!”

  “Will do.”

  He indicated the document on his desktop monitor. She sat down and reached for the control unit as he headed for the kitchen.

  ~ ~ ~

  Captain Deacon was breathing heavily as he hurried into the conference room, looking around. “Looks like we’re the last ones to get here.”