West of Honor c-2

by Jerry Pournelle

  "When he puts on his governor's hat," I interjected. "I keep wondering if we blew it, Kathryn. If we'd taken the governor up on his offer, we could at least have got down there to do something. I might even have caught the bastard that… you know who I mean."

  "I'm glad you didn't, Hal. Anything you did to those gangsters they'd take out on my friends as soon as you'd left. I wouldn't have helped you, and I don't think anyone else would, because anybody that did would be signing death warrants for his whole family, and all his friends too."

  "Sounds like a rough gang," Louis mused. "Thorough. If you're going to use terror, go all the way. Unfortunately, it works."

  Kathryn nodded. "Yes. I've tried to explain it to Governor Swale. If he sends an expedition there, a lot of my friends will try to help. They'll be killed if he leaves those hoodlums in control when it's over. It would be better if none of you ever went there."

  "But the Harmony merchants don't like the prices," Louis said. "They want their grain cheaper, and Swale's got to worry about them, too. A complaint from the Harmony city council wouldn't look too good on his record. Somebody at BuColonial might take it seriously."

  "Politics," Kathryn said. "Why can't-"

  "Be your age," Louis said. "There's politics in the CoDominium, sure, but we still keep the peace. And it's not all that bad, anyway. Swale was appointed by Grand Senator Branson's people."

  "An unsavory lot," I said.

  "Maybe," Louis admitted. "Anyway, of course that means that Bronson's enemies will be looking for reasons to discredit Swale. He's got to be careful. The Harmony merchants still have friends at American Express-and AmEx hates Bronson with a passion."

  "I'd say our governor has problems, then," I suggested. "From the looks of the troops he took with him, he won't scare the association much. The militia have pretty uniforms, but they're all city kids. All right for holding walls and cruising along the Jordan now that we've disarmed everybody here, but they're unlikely to scare anybody with real combat experience."

  CHAPTER 11

  We put the entire battalion on ready alert, but nothing happened for a week. Colonel Harrington stayed at Fort Beersheeba and joined us in the officers' mess in the evenings. Like Falkenberg he liked bagpipes. To my horror, so did Kathryn. I suppose every woman has some major failing.

  "What the hell is he doing?" Colonel Harrington demanded. "I'd have sworn he'd have got himself into trouble by now. Maybe we've overestimated the Mission Hills Protective Association. Why the hell did they come up with that name? There aren't any Mission Hills on this planet, to the best of my knowledge."

  "They brought the name with them, Colonel," Louis told him. "There's a Southern California gang with that name. Been around for two or three generations. A number of them happened to be on the same prison ship, and they stuck together when they got here."

  "How the hell did you find that out?" Harrington demanded.

  "Captain Falkenberg insists that his people be thorough," Louis said. "It was a matter of sifting through enough convicts until I found one who knew, and then finding some corroboration."

  "Well, congratulations, Louis," Harrington said. "John, you've done well with your collection of newlies."

  "Thank you, Colonel."

  "Real test's coming up now, though. What the hell is happening down there? Steward. Another whiskey, all around. If we can't fight, we can still drink."

  "Maybe Governor Swale will come to terms with them," I suggested.

  The colonel gave me a sour look. "Doubt it, Hal. He's between a rock and a hard place. The merchants won't stand for the prices those goons want, and they think they've got him by the short ones. They're not afraid of us, you know. They've got a good idea of what's going on in Harmony. They know damned well that Fleet isn't sending any more support to Arrarat, and what the hell can 1000 men do? Even 1000 Line marines?"

  "I hope they think that way," Deane said. "If they'll stand and fight, they're finished-"

  "But they won't," John Falkenberg said. "They're no fools. They won't stand and fight, they'll run like hell as soon as we get close to them. They've only to sit up in the hills and avoid us. Eventually we'll have to leave, but they won't."

  Harrington nodded. "Yeah. In the long run those poor damned farmers will have to cut it for themselves. Maybe they'll make it. At least we can try to set things right for them. John, do you think the pipers have had their drink by now?"

  "I'm certain of it, Colonel. Lazar! Have Pipe Major bring us a tune!"

  Eight days after the governor left Fort Beersheeba we still had no word. That night there was the usual drinking with the pipers in the mess. I excused myself early and went up to my rooms with Kathryn. I still couldn't touch her without setting her to trembling, but we were working on it. I'd decided I was in love with her, and I could wait for the physical aspects to develop. I didn't dare think very far ahead. We had no real future that I could see, but for the moment just being together was enough. It wasn't a situation either of us enjoyed, but we hated to be separated.

  The phone buzzed. "Slater," I answered.

  "Sergeant Major Ogilvie, sir. You're wanted in the staff room immediately."

  "Halleluiah. Be right there, Sergeant Major." As I hung up, Brady's trumpet sounded on Full Kits. I turned to Kathryn. We were both grinning like idiots. "This is it, sweetheart."

  "Yes. Now that it's happened, I'm scared-"

  "So am I. As Falkenberg says, we're all scared, but it's an officer's job not to show it. Be back when I can-"

  "Just a second." She came to me and put her hands on my shoulders. Her arms went around me, and she pulled me against herself. "See. I'm hardly shaking at all." She kissed me, quickly, then a long lingering kiss.

  "This is one hell of a time for a miraculous psychiatric cure," I muttered.

  "Shut up and get out of here."

  "Aye aye, Ma'am." I went out quickly. Hartz was in the hallway. "I will have our gear ready, zur," he said. "And now we fight."

  "I hope so."

  As I walked across the parade ground I wondered why I felt so good. We were about to go kill and maim a lot of people, and give them the chance to do it to us. For a million reasons we ought to have been afraid, and we ought to dread what was coming, but we didn't.

  Is it that what we thought we should do was so thoroughly alien to what we really felt? I couldn't kid myself that this time was different because our cause was just. We say we love peace, but it doesn't excite us. Even pacifists talk more about the horrors of war than about the glories of peace.

  And you're not supposed to solve the problems of the universe, I told myself. But you do get to kill the man that raped your girl.

  The others were already in the conference room, with Colonel Harrington at the head of the table.

  "The expected has happened," Harrington said. I knew for a fact that he'd drunk four double whiskeys since supper, but there wasn't a trace of it in his speech. I'd swallowed two quick-sober pills on the way over. I really hadn't needed them. I was sure they hadn't had time to dissolve, but I felt fine.

  "Our governor has managed to get himself besieged in Allanstown," Harrington announced. "With half of his force outside the town. He wants us to bail him put. I have told him we will march immediately-for a price."

  "Then he's agreed to withdraw recognition of the Association?" Deane asked.

  "Agreed to, yes. He hasn't done it yet. I think he's afraid that the instant he does, they will get really nasty. However, I have his word on it, and I will hold him to it. Captain Falkenberg, the 501st is hereby ordered to drive the Mission Hills Protective Association out of the Allan River Valley by whatever means you think best. You may cooperate with local partisan forces in the area and make reasonable agreements with them. The entire valley is to be placed under CoDominium protection."

  "Aye aye, sir." Falkenberg's detached calm broke for a moment and he let a note of triumph get into his voice.

  "Now, Captain, if you will be kind enough
to review your battle plan," Harrington said.

  "Sir." Falkenberg used the console to project a map onto the briefing screen.

  I'd already memorized the area, but I examined it again. About ten kilometers upriver from Beersheeba the Jordan was joined by a tributary known as the Allan River. The Allan runs southwest through forest lands for about 50 kilometers, then turns and widens in a valley that lies almost due north-south. The east side of the Allan Valley is narrow, because no more than 20 klicks from the river there's a high mountain range and east of that is high desert. Nobody lives there and nobody would want to. On the west side, though, is some of the most fertile land on Arrarat. The valley is irregularly shaped, narrowing to no more than 25 klicks wide in places, but opening out to more than 100 klicks in others. It reminded me of the San Joaquin Valley of California, a big fertile bowl with rugged mountains on both sides of it.

  Allansport is 125 klicks upriver from where the Allan runs into the Jordan. Falkenberg left the big valley map on one screen, and projected a detail onto the other. He fiddled with the console to bring red and green lines representing friendly and hostile forces onto the map.

  "As you can see, Governor Swale with one company of militia have taken a defensive position in Allanstown," Falkenberg said. "The other two militia companies are south of him, actually upriver. How the devil he ever got himself into such a stupid situation I cannot say."

  "Natural talent," Colonel Harrington muttered.

  "No doubt," Falkenberg replied. "We have two objectives. The minor, but most urgent, is to rescue Governor Swale. The major objective is pacification of the area. It seems very unlikely that we can accomplish that without a general uprising of the locals in our favor. Agreed?"

  We were all silent for a moment. "Mister Bonneyman, I believe you're the junior," Colonel Harrington said.

  "Agreed, sir," Louis said.

  Deane and I spoke at once. "Agreed."

  "Excellent. I remind you that this conference is recorded," Falkenberg said.

  Of course. All staff conferences are. It didn't seem like Falkenberg and Harrington to spread responsibility around by getting our opinions on record, but I was sure they had their reasons.

  "The best way to stimulate a general uprising would be to inflict an immediate and major defeat on the Protective Association," Falkenberg said. "A defeat, not merely driving them away, but bringing them to battle and eliminating a large number of them. It is my view that this is sufficiently important to justify considerable risks. Is that agreed to?"

  Aha, I thought. Starting with Louis we all stated our agreements.

  "Then we can proceed to the battle plan," Falkenberg continued. "It is complex, but I think it is worth a try. You will notice that there is a pass into the hills west of Allanstown. Our informants tell us that this is the route the Association forces will take if they are forced to retreat. Furthermore, there is a sizable militia force south of Allanstown. If the militia was strengthened with local partisans, and if we can take the pass before the besieging hostiles realize their danger, we will have them trapped. The main body of the battalion will march upriver, approach from the north, and engage them. We won't get them all, but we should be able to eliminate quite a lot of them. With that kind of victory behind us, persuading the other ranchers to rise up and join us should not be difficult."

  As he talked he illustrated the battle plan with lights on the map. He was right. It was complex.

  "Questions?" Falkenberg asked.

  "Sir," I said. "I don't believe those two militia companies can take the pass. I certainly wouldn't count on it."

  "They can't," Harrington said. "But they're pretty steady on defense. Give 'em a strong position to hold and those lads will give a good account of themselves-especially with regulars to help."

  "Yes," Falkenberg said. "I propose to stiffen the militia outside the city with two sections of marines. We still have our Skyhooks, and I see no reason why we can't use them again."

  "Here we go again," I muttered. "Even so, sir, it all depends on how strongly that pass is held, and we don't know that. Or do we?"

  "Only that it will be defended," Falkenberg repeated. "The attack on the pass will have to be in the nature of a probe, ready to be withdrawn if the opposition is too stiff."

  "I see." I thought about that for a while. I'd never done anything like that, of course. I might have a military medal, but I couldn't kid myself about my combat experience. "I think I can manage that, sir," I said.

  Falkenberg gave me his half grin, the expression he used when he was springing one of his surprises. "I'm afraid you won't have all the fun this time, Mr. Slater. I intend to lead the Skyhook force myself. You'll have command of the main body."

  There was more to his plan, including a part I didn't like at all. He was taking Kathryn with him on the Skyhook. I couldn't really object. She'd already volunteered. Falkenberg had called her in my rooms while I was on the way over to the conference.

  "I really have little choice," Falkenberg said. "We must have someone reliable who is known to the locals. The whole plan depends on getting enough local assistance to seal off the valley to the south of Allanstown. Otherwise there's no point to it."

  I had to agree. I didn't have to like it. I could imagine what she'd say if I tried to stop her.

  Falkenberg finished with the briefing. "Any more questions? No? Then once again I'll ask for your opinions."

  "Looks all right to me," Louis said. Of course he would. He was going with Falkenberg in the Skyhooks.

  "No problem with heavy weapons," Deane nodded. "I like it."

  "Mr. Slater?"

  "My operation looks straightforward enough. There're no problems.

  "It's straightforward," Colonel Harrington said. "But not trivial. You've got the trickiest part of the job. You have to seal off the northern escape route, engage the enemy, rescue the governor, and then swing around like a hammer to smash the hostiles against the anvil Captain Falkenberg will erect at the passes. The timing is critical."

  "I have confidence in Lieutenant Slater," Falkenberg said.

  "So have I, or I wouldn't approve this plan," Harrington agreed. "But don't ignore what we're doing here. In order to carry out the major objective of clearing the hostiles from the whole valley, we're leaving Governor Swale in a rather delicate situation. If something goes wrong, Sector will have our heads. With justice, I might add." He stood, and we all got to our feet. "But I like it. No doubt the association thinks we'll be rushing directly to the governor's aid, and their people are prepared for that. I hate to be obvious."

  "So do I," Falkenberg added.

  Harrington nodded curtly. "Gentlemen, you have your orders."

  The river boats looked like something out of the American Civil War as they puffed their way down the dark river. We'd had a rainstorm when we left the fort, but now the sky was clear and dark, with bright stars overhead. My rivercraft were really nothing more than barges with steam engines and enough superstructure to get cargo under cover. They were made of wood, of course; there wasn't enough of a metals industry on Arrarat to build steel hulls and not much reason to want to.

  I had three barges, each about 50 meters long and 20 wide, big rectangular floating platforms with cabins whose roofs served as raised decks, and a central bridge to control them. Every centimeter of available space was covered with troops, mules, guns, supply wagons, ammunition, tentage, and rations. The 501st was going to the Allan Valley to stay.

  The barges burned wood, which we had to stop and cut with chain saws. In addition, I had one amphibious hovercraft with light armor. It could make 55 kilometers an hour compared to the 11 km/hr the barges got under full steam. Perched on top of the third barge was number three helicopter, which could make a couple of hundred km/hr. The discrepancies in speeds would have been amusing if they weren't so frustrating.

  "One damn DC-45," Deane said. "One. That's all, one Starlifter, and we could be there in an hour."

  "We ma
ke do with what we got," I told him. "Besides, think how romantic it all is. Pity we don't have a leadsman up in the bows singing out the river depth, instead of a sonar depth finder."

  The hovercraft ran interference to be sure there weren't any nasty surprises waiting for us. As we got closer to Allanstown I sent up the chopper to make a high-altitude survey of the landing area. We were landing a good 20 klicks downriver from Alianstown. Not only were the banks a lot steeper farther upriver, but we didn't want to scare the association off by landing too close. Governor Swale was screaming at me hourly, of course. He wanted us in Allanstown right now. When I told him where we were putting ashore, he was almost hysterical.

  "What the hell are you doing?" he demanded. "All you have to do is show up! They won't stand and fight you. This is all a political maneuver. Put heavy pressure on them and they'll come to terms."

  I didn't point out that we didn't intend to come to terms with the association. "Sir, Colonel Harrington approved the battle plan."

  "I don't care if God the Father approved it," Swale shouted. "What are you doing? I know Falkenberg is south of here with troops he brought in by helicopter, but he won't tell me what he's doing! And now he's withdrawn the militia! I'm trapped in here, and you're playing some kind of game! I demand to know what you intend."

  "Governor, I don't know myself," I said. "I just know what my orders are. We'll have you out of there in a few hours. Out." I switched off the set and turned to Deane.

  "Well," I said, "we know Louis and Falkenberg are doing something down south of us. Wish I knew how they're making out."

  "If there's something we need to know, they'll tell us," Deane said. "Worried about Kathryn?"

  "Some."

  "Never get so attached to anyone that you worry about her. Saves a lot of skull sweat."

  "Yeah, sure. Helmsman. That looks like our landing area. Look sharp."

  "Aye aye, sir."

  "Hartz, get me the chopper pilot."

  "Sir." Hartz fiddled with the radio for a moment, then handed me the mike.